CHAPTER 5

                ²I was asleep but my heart was awake:

                    Hark! my lover knocks.

                —Open for me, my sister, my friend,

                    my dove, my perfect one.

                For my head is drenched with dew,

                    my locks with the drops of the night.

                ³—I have put off my gown,

                    how can I don it?

                I have bathed my feet,

                    how can I besmirch them?

                ⁴My lover pulled back his hand from the latch,

                    and my heart raced within me.

                ⁵I rose to open for my lover.

                    My hands dripped myrrh

                and my fingers liquid myrrh,

                    over the handles of the bolt.

                ⁶I opened for my lover,

                    but my lover had slipped off, was gone.

                          my breath left me when he spoke.

                I sought him but did not find him.

                    I called him but he did not answer.

                ⁷The watchmen who go round the town found me.

                    They struck me, they wounded me.

                They pulled my veil from me,

                    the watchmen of the walls.

                ⁸I make you swear, O daughters of Jerusalem,

                should you find my lover, what shall you tell him?

                    that I am in a swoon of love.

                ⁹—How is your lover more than another,

                    O fairest among women?

                How is your lover more than another,

                    that thus you make us vow?

                ¹⁰—My lover is shining white and ruddy,

                    standing out among ten thousand.

                ¹¹His head is purest gold,

                    his locks are curls

                          black as a raven.

                ¹²His eyes are like

                    by streams of water

                bathing in milk,

                    dwelling by a pool.

                ¹³His cheeks are like beds of spices

                    sprouting aromatic scents.

                His lips are lilies,

                    dripping liquid myrrh.

                ¹⁴His arms are coils of gold

                    inset with ruby.

                His loins are fine-wrought ivory,

                    with sapphire inlaid.

                ¹⁵His thighs are ivory pillars

                    set on pedestals of gold.

                Like Lebanon his look,

                    he is choice as the cedars.

                ¹⁶His mouth is sweetest drink,

                    all of him, delight.

                This is my lover and this is my friend,

                    O daughters of Jerusalem.