I have come into my garden,1 my sister, my bride;2 I have gathered my myrrh with my spice. I have eaten my honeycomb and my honey; I have drunk my wine and my milk.3 Eat, O friends, and drink; drink your fill, O lovers.
I slept but my heart was awake. Listen! My lover is knocking: "Open to me, my sister, my darling, my dove,4 my flawless5 one.6 My head is drenched with dew, my hair with the dampness of the night."
I have taken off my robe-- must I put it on again? I have washed my feet-- must I soil them again?
My lover thrust his hand through the latch-opening; my heart began to pound for him.
I arose to open for my lover, and my hands dripped with myrrh,7 my fingers with flowing myrrh, on the handles of the lock.
I opened for my lover,8 but my lover had left; he was gone.9 My heart sank at his departure.a I looked10 for him but did not find him. I called him but he did not answer.