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“I arose to open for my beloved;
And my hands dripped with myrrh,
And my fingers with liquid [sweet-scented] myrrh,
On the handles of the bolt.

“I opened for my beloved,
But my beloved had turned away and was gone.
My heart went out to him when he spoke.
I searched for him, but I could not find him;
I called him, but he did not answer me.

“The watchmen who make the rounds in the city found me.
They struck me, they wounded me;
The guardsmen of the walls took my shawl from me.

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