Song of Solomon
5* —I come into my garden, my sister, bride,
gather my myrrh with my balsam,
Eat my honeycomb with my honey,
drink my wine with my milk.
—Eat, friend,
drink and carouse, truelove!
2 I was asleep but my heart was awake:
the sound of my truelove knocking!
“Open to me, my sister,
my sweetheart, my dove, my ideal,
Because my head has got full of dew,
my locks of night drops.”
4 My truelove put his hand through the hole
and my bosom was in a turmoil over him.
5 I stood up to open for my truelove,
and my hands were dripping with myrrh
And my fingers with myrrh that went over
to the handles of the bolt.
6 I did open for my truelove,
but my truelove had turned round and gone.
The life had gone out of me at his speaking;
I looked for him and did not find him,
called him and he did not answer me.
7 The guards that go round in the city
found me, beat me, wounded me;
The guards of the walls
took my mantle off me.
8 I adjure you, daughters of Jerusalem,
if you find my truelove,
To what you are to tell him:
that I am breaking down with love.
9 “What sort of truelove is yours,
most beautiful among women?
What sort of truelove is yours,
that you adjure us like that?”
10 My truelove is white and red,
outstanding among ten thousand.
13 His cheeks are like beds of sweet herbs
growing perfumers’ stock;
His lips are lilies
that drip flowing myrrh.
14 His arms are cylinders of gold
set with jasper;
His waist is a block of ivory
overspread with sapphires.
15 His legs are pillars of marble
resting on bases of red gold.
The look of him is like the Lebanon,
admirable as the cedars.