I have entered my garden, my sister, my bride; I have gathered my myrrh with my spices. I have eaten my honeycomb with my honey; I have drunk my wine with my milk. Eat, friends, and drink; be intoxicated with love.

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 was sleeping, but my heart was awake. I heard the sound of my beloved knocking: "Open to me, my sister, my darling, my dove, my perfect one, for my head is drenched with dew and my hair with the dampness of the night."

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.

I have taken off my tunic; how can I put it back on? I have washed my feet; how can I dirty them again?

I have put off my coat; how shall I put it on? I have washed my feet; how shall I defile them?

My beloved reached his hand through the opening, and my heart was stirred for him.

My beloved put in his hand by the hole of the door, and my bowels were moved for him.

I arose to open for my beloved, and my hands dripped with myrrh, my fingers with liquid myrrh, on the handles of the bolt.

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I opened to my beloved, but he had withdrawn and was gone. My soul failed when he spoke. I sought him, but I could not find him; I called him, but he did not answer.

I opened to my beloved; but my beloved had withdrawn himself, and was gone: my soul failed when he spake: I sought him, but I could not find him; I called him, but he gave me no answer.

The watchmen who go about the city found me; they struck me, they wounded me; the keepers of the walls took away my veil from me.

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.

I charge you, daughters of Jerusalem, if you find my beloved, what will you tell him? Tell him that I am lovesick.

I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if ye find my beloved, that ye tell him, that I am sick of love.

What makes your beloved better than another beloved, most beautiful among women? What makes your beloved better than another, that you should beg us so passionately?

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?

My beloved is radiant and ruddy, outstanding among ten thousand.

My beloved is white and ruddy, the chiefest among ten thousand.

His head is purest gold; his locks are wavy, black as a raven.

His head is as the most fine gold, his locks are bushy, and black as a raven.

His eyes are like doves beside streams of water, washed in milk, perfectly set.

His eyes are as the eyes of doves by the rivers of waters, washed with milk, and fitly set.

His cheeks are like a bed of spices, towers of scented herbs. His lips are lilies dripping with flowing myrrh.

His cheeks are as a bed of spices, as sweet flowers: his lips like lilies, dropping sweet smelling myrrh.

His hands are rods of gold, set with beryl. His body is polished ivory, adorned with sapphires.

His hands are as gold rings set with the beryl: his belly is as bright ivory overlaid with sapphires.

His legs are pillars of marble, set on bases of fine gold. His appearance is like Lebanon, excellent as the cedars.

His legs are as pillars of marble, set upon sockets of fine gold: his countenance is as Lebanon, excellent as the cedars.

His mouth is sweetness itself; he is altogether lovely. This is my beloved, this is my friend, daughters of Jerusalem.

His mouth is most sweet: yea, he is altogether lovely. This is my beloved, and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem.