² I was sleeping, but my heart was awake.
A sound! My love was knocking!^(A)

Open to me, my sister, my darling,
my dove, my perfect one.
For my head is drenched with dew,
my hair with droplets of the night.

⁹ But my dove,^(A) my virtuous one, is unique;^(B)
she is the favourite of her mother,
perfect to the one who gave her birth.
Women see her and declare her fortunate;^(C)
queens and concubines also, and they sing her praises: