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Chapter 5
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I came to my garden, my sister, my bride, I gathered my myrrh with my spice, I ate my honeycomb with my honey, I drank my wine with my milk. Eat, friends, drink, and be drunk with love!The Bride Searches for Her Beloved
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I slept, but my heart was awake. A sound! My beloved is knocking. "Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my perfect one, for my head is wet with dew, my locks with the drops of the night."
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I had put off my garment; how could I put it on? I had bathed my feet; how could I soil them?
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My beloved put his hand to the latch, and my heart was thrilled within me.
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I arose to open to my beloved, and my hands dripped with myrrh, my fingers with liquid myrrh, on the handles of the bolt.
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I opened to my beloved, but my beloved had turned and gone. My soul failed me when he spoke. I sought him, but found him not; I called him, but he gave no answer.
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The watchmen found me as they went about in the city; they beat me, they bruised me, they took away my veil, those watchmen of the walls.
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I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if you find my beloved, that you tell him I am sick with love.
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What is your beloved more than another beloved, O most beautiful among women? What is your beloved more than another beloved, that you thus adjure us?The Bride Praises Her Beloved
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My beloved is radiant and ruddy, distinguished among ten thousand.
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His head is the finest gold; his locks are wavy, black as a raven.
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His eyes are like doves beside streams of water, bathed in milk, sitting beside a full pool.
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His cheeks are like beds of spices, mounds of sweet-smelling herbs. His lips are lilies, dripping liquid myrrh.
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His arms are rods of gold, set with jewels. His body is polished ivory, bedecked with sapphires.
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His legs are alabaster columns, set on bases of gold. His appearance is like Lebanon, choice as the cedars.
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His mouth is most sweet, and he is altogether desirable. This is my beloved and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem.