Song of Solomon 5
1 I am come into my garden, my sister, my spouse: 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; drink, yea, drink abundantly, O beloved.
I enter my garden, my sister, my bride! I gather myrrh with my spice. I eat my honeycomb with my honey. I drink wine with my milk. Let us eat our fill of love! Let us be drunk with love!
2 I sleep, but my heart waketh: it is the voice of my beloved that knocketh, saying, Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled: for my head is filled with dew, and my locks with the drops of the night.
Though I was asleep, my mind was racing. I heard my love knocking, and calling out, “Please open the door, my sister, my darling, my dove, my perfect love. My head is soaked with dew, my hair is wet from the night mist.”
3 I have put off my coat; how shall I put it on? I have washed my feet; how shall I defile them?
I replied, “I've already got undressed. I don't have to get dressed again, do I? I've already washed my feet. I don't have to make them dirty again, do I?”
4 My beloved put in his hand by the hole of the door, and my bowels were moved for him.
My love thrust his hand into the opening. Deep inside I longed for him.
5 I rose up to open to my beloved; and my hands dropped with myrrh, and my fingers with sweet smelling myrrh, upon the handles of the lock.
I got up to let my love in. My hands dripped with myrrh, my fingers with liquid myrrh, as I grabbed the handles of the bolt.
6 I opened to my beloved; but my beloved had withdrawn himself, and was gone: my soul failed when he spake: I sought him, but I could not find him; I called him, but he gave me no answer.
I opened up to my love, but he had left—he was gone! I was crushed as a result. I looked for him but I couldn't find him. I called him but he didn't answer.
7 The watchmen that went about the city found me, they smote me, they wounded me; the keepers of the walls took away my veil from me.
The watchmen found me as they went through the city. They beat me, they hurt me, and stole my cloak, those watchmen of the walls.
8 I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if ye find my beloved, that ye tell him, that I am sick of love.
Women of Jerusalem, promise me if you find my love and wonder what you should tell him, tell him I am weak with love.
9 What is thy beloved more than another beloved, O thou fairest among women? what is thy beloved more than another beloved, that thou dost so charge us?
Why is the one you love better than any other, most beautiful of women? In what way is the one you love better than any other that we should promise you that?
10 My beloved is white and ruddy, the chiefest among ten thousand.
My love has dazzling good looks and is very fit—better than ten thousand others!
11 His head is as the most fine gold, his locks are bushy, and black as a raven.
His head is like the finest gold, his hair is wavy and black as the raven.
12 His eyes are as the eyes of doves by the rivers of waters, washed with milk, and fitly set.
His eyes are like doves beside springs of water, washed with milk and mounted like sparkling jewels.
13 His cheeks are as a bed of spices, as sweet flowers: his lips like lilies, dropping sweet smelling myrrh.
His cheeks are like a flowerbed of spices that produces fragrance. His lips are like lilies, dripping with liquid myrrh.
14 His hands are as gold rings set with the beryl: his belly is as bright ivory overlaid with sapphires.
His arms are round bars of gold inlaid with jewels. His abdomen is like carved ivory inlaid with lapis lazuli.
15 His legs are as pillars of marble, set upon sockets of fine gold: his countenance is as Lebanon, excellent as the cedars.
His legs are columns of alabaster set on bases of gold. He looks strong, like the mighty cedars of Lebanon.
16 His mouth is most sweet: yea, he is altogether lovely. This is my beloved, and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem.
His mouth is the sweetest ever; he is totally desirable! This is my love, my friend, women of Jerusalem.
