You have stolen my heart, my sister, my bride! You have stolen my heart with one glance of your eyes, with one jewel of your necklace.

How delightful is your love, my sister, my bride! How much better is your love than wine; the fragrance of your perfume is better than any spice!

Your lips drip sweetness like the honeycomb, my bride, honey and milk are under your tongue. The fragrance of your garments is like the fragrance of Lebanon.

The Wedding Night: The Delightful Garden

class="speaker">The Lover to His Beloved:

You are a locked garden, my sister, my bride; you are an enclosed spring, a sealed-up fountain.

Your shoots are a royal garden full of pomegranates with choice fruits: henna with nard,

nard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon with every kind of spice, myrrh and aloes with all the finest spices.

class="speaker">The Beloved to Her Lover:

Awake, O north wind; come, O south wind! Blow on my garden so that its fragrant spices may send out their sweet smell. May my beloved come into his garden and eat its delightful fruit!

class="speaker">The Lover to His Beloved:

I have entered my garden, O my sister, my bride; I have gathered my myrrh with my balsam spice. I have eaten my honeycomb and my honey; I have drunk my wine and my milk!

class="speaker">The Poet to the Couple:

Eat, friends, and drink! Drink freely, O lovers!

The Trials of Love: The Beloved’s Dream of Losing Her Lover

class="speaker">The Beloved about Her Lover:

I was asleep, but my mind was dreaming. Listen! My lover is knocking at the door!

class="speaker">The Lover to His Beloved:

“Open for me, my sister, my darling, my dove, my flawless one! My head is drenched with dew, my hair with the dampness of the night.”

class="speaker">The Beloved to Her Lover:

“I have already taken off my robe—must I put it on again? I have already washed my feet—must I soil them again?”

I arose to open for my beloved; my hands dripped with myrrh— my fingers flowed with myrrh on the handles of the lock.

I opened for my beloved, but my lover had already turned and gone away. I fell into despair when he departed. I looked for him but did not find him; I called him but he did not answer me.

The watchmen found me as they made their rounds in the city. They beat me, they bruised me; they took away my cloak, those watchmen on the walls!

The Triumph of Love: The Beloved Praises Her Lover

class="speaker">The Beloved to the Maidens:

I admonish you, O maidens of Jerusalem— If you find my beloved, what will you tell him? Tell him that I am lovesick!

class="speaker">The Maidens to The Beloved:

Why is your beloved better than others, O most beautiful of women? Why is your beloved better than others, that you would admonish us in this manner?

class="speaker">The Beloved to the Maidens:

My beloved is dazzling and ruddy; he stands out in comparison to all other men.

His head is like the purest gold. His hair is curly—black like a raven.

His eyes are like doves by streams of water, washed in milk, mounted like jewels.

His cheeks are like garden beds full of balsam trees yielding perfume. His lips are like lilies dripping with drops of myrrh.

His arms are like rods of gold set with chrysolite. His abdomen is like polished ivory inlaid with sapphires.

His legs are like pillars of marble set on bases of pure gold. His appearance is like Lebanon, choice as its cedars.

His mouth is very sweet; he is totally desirable. This is my beloved! This is my companion, O maidens of Jerusalem!

The Lost Lover Found

class="speaker">The Maidens to the Beloved:

Where has your beloved gone, O most beautiful among women? Where has your beloved turned? Tell us, that we may seek him with you.

class="speaker">The Beloved to the Maidens:

My beloved has gone down to his garden, to the flowerbeds of balsam spices, to graze in the gardens, and to gather lilies.

Poetic Refrain: Mutual Possession

class="speaker">The Beloved about Her Lover:

I am my lover’s and my lover is mine; he grazes among the lilies.