Study Desk

My darling my bride, I have entered my garden. I have gathered my myrrh and spice. I have eaten my honey and honeycomb. I have drunk my wine and milk.

The Women Speak to the Lovers

Dearest friends, eat, drink! Be drunk with love!

I am asleep, but my heart is awake. I hear my lover knocking, saying, "Open to me, my darling, my love, my dove, my perfect one! My head is soaked with dew. My hair is wet with the mist of the night."

"I have taken off my robe.^[a] I don't want to put it on again. I have washed my feet. I don't want to get them dirty again."

But my lover put his hand through the opening,^[b] and I felt sorry for him.^[c]

I got up to open for my lover, myrrh dripping from my hands, myrrh scented lotion dripped from my fingers onto the handles of the lock.

I opened for my lover, but my lover had turned away and was gone! I nearly died when he came and went.^[d] I looked for him, but I couldn't find him. I called for him, but he didn't answer me.

The guards patrolling the city found me. They hit me. They hurt me. The guards on the wall took my robe from me.

I tell you, women of Jerusalem, if you find my lover, tell him I am weak with love.^[e]

Beautiful woman, how is your lover different from other lovers? Is your lover better than other lovers? Is that why you ask us to make this promise?

My lover is tanned and radiant. He would stand out among 10,000 men.

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

His eyes are like doves by a stream, like doves in a pool of milk, like a jewel in its setting.

His cheeks are like a garden of spices, like flowers used for perfume. His lips are like lilies, dripping with liquid myrrh.

His arms are like gold rods, filled with jewels. His body is like smooth ivory with sapphires set in it.

His legs are like marble pillars on bases of fine gold. He stands tall like the finest cedar tree in Lebanon!

Yes, women of Jerusalem, my lover is everything I desire. His mouth is the sweetest of all. This is my lover; this is my darling.

Beautiful woman, where has your lover gone? Which way did your lover go? Tell us so that we can help you look for him.

My lover has gone down to his garden, where sweet-smelling spices grow. There, like a sheep, he will eat the grass, and he will enjoy the lilies.

I belong to my lover, and my lover belongs to me. He is the one feeding among the lilies.

My darling, you are as beautiful as Tirzah,^[a] as pleasant as Jerusalem, as awesome as the stars in the sky.^[b]

Don't look at me! Your eyes excite me too much! And your hair is long and flowing, like little goats dancing down the slopes of Mount Gilead.

Your teeth are white like ewes^[c] just coming from their bath. They all give birth to twins. Not one of them has lost a baby.

Your cheeks under your veil are like slices of pomegranate.

There might be 60 queens and 80 slave women, and young women too many to count,

but there is only one woman for me, my dove, my perfect one. She is the favorite of her mother, her mother's favorite child. The young women see her and praise her. Even the queens and slave women praise her.

Who is that young woman? She shines out like the dawn. She is as pretty as the moon. She is as bright as the sun. She is as awesome as the stars in the sky.

I went down to the grove of walnut trees, to see the fruit of the valley, to see if the vines were in bloom, to see if the pomegranates had budded.

I was so excited when she put me in the royal chariot.^[d]

Come back, come back, Shulamith^[e]! Come back, come back, so we may look at you. Why are you staring at Shulamith, as she dances the Mahanaim dance^[f]?