Song of Solomon 5
1 I have come to my garden, my sister, my bride; I have gathered my myrrh with my spice. I have eaten my honeycomb with my honey; I have drunk my wine with my milk. Eat, O friends, and drink; drink freely, O beloved.
[HE] I have entered my garden, my sister, bride, I have plucked my myrrh, with my balsam, I have eaten the honey of my thicket, I have drunk my wine, with my milk: —Eat ye, O friends, Drink, yea drink abundantly, ye beloved!
2 I sleep, but my heart is awake. A sound! My beloved is knocking: “Open to me, my sister, my darling, my dove, my flawless one. My head is drenched with dew, my hair with the dampness of the night.”
[SHE] I, was sleeping, but, my heart, was awake, —The voice of my beloved—knocking! Open to me, my sister, my fair one, my dove, my perfect one, for, my head, is filled with dew, my locks, with the moisture of the night.
3 I have taken off my robe— must I put it back on? I have washed my feet— must I soil them again?
I have put off my tunic, oh how shall I put it on? I have bathed my feet, oh how shall I soil them?
4 My beloved put his hand to the latch; my heart pounded for him.
My beloved, thrust in his hand, at the window, and, my feelings, were deeply moved for him:
5 I rose up to open for my beloved. My hands dripped with myrrh, my fingers with flowing myrrh on the handles of the bolt.
I myself, arose, to open to my beloved, —and, my hands, dripped with myrrh, and, my fingers, with myrrh distilling, upon the handles of the bolt.
6 I opened for my beloved, but he had turned and gone. My heart sank at his departure. I sought him, but did not find him. I called, but he did not answer.
I myself, opened to my beloved, but, my beloved, had turned away, had passed on, —My soul, had gone out when he spake, I sought him, but found him not, I called him, but he answered not.
7 I encountered the watchmen on their rounds of the city. They beat me and bruised me; they took away my cloak, those guardians of the walls.
The watchmen who were going round in the city, found me, they smote me, wounded me, —The watchmen of the walls, took away my cloak from off me.
8 O daughters of Jerusalem, I adjure you, if you find my beloved, tell him I am sick with love.
I adjure you, ye daughters of Jerusalem, —If ye find my beloved, what will ye tell him? That, sick with love, I am.
9 How is your beloved better than others, O most beautiful among women? How is your beloved better than another, that you charge us so?
[DAUGHTERS OF JERUSALEM] What is thy beloved more than any other beloved, thou most beautiful among women? What is thy beloved more than any other beloved, that, thus, thou hast adjured us?
10 My beloved is dazzling and ruddy, outstanding among ten thousand.
[SHE.] My beloved, is white and ruddy, conspicuous beyond ten thousand:
11 His head is purest gold; his hair is wavy and black as a raven.
His head, is pure gold, —his locks, are bushy, black as a raven;
12 His eyes are like doves beside the streams of water, bathed in milk and mounted like jewels.
His eyes, like doves, by the channels of water, —bathing in milk, set as gems in a ring:
13 His cheeks are like beds of spice, towers of perfume. His lips are like lilies, dripping with flowing myrrh.
His cheeks, like a raised bed of balsam, growing plants of perfume, —His lips, lilies, dripping with myrrh distilling:
14 His arms are rods of gold set with beryl. His body is an ivory panel bedecked with sapphires.
His hands, cylinders of gold, set with topaz, —His body, wrought work of ivory, covered with sapphires:
15 His legs are pillars of marble set on bases of pure gold. His appearance is like Lebanon, as majestic as the cedars.
His legs, pillars of white marble, founded on sockets of gold, —His form, like Lebanon, choice as cedars:
16 His mouth is most sweet; he is altogether lovely. This is my beloved, and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem.
His mouth, most sweet, yea, altogether, he is delightful, —This, is my beloved, yea, this, is my dear one, ye daughters of Jerusalem.
