Study Desk

I sleep, but my heart is awake. It is the sound of my Beloved that knocks, saying , Open to Me, My sister, My love, My dove, My undefiled. For My head is filled with dew, My locks with the drops of the night.

I have stripped off My coat; how shall I put it on? I have washed My feet; how shall I soil them?

My Beloved sent His hand from the opening, and my inner being sighed for Him.

I rose up to open to my Beloved, and my hands dripped with myrrh; yea, my fingers flowing with myrrh on the handles of the bolt.

I opened to my Beloved, but my Beloved had left; He passed on. My soul went out when He spoke; I sought Him, but I could not find Him. I called Him, but He did not answer me.

The ones watching who went about the city found me and struck me; they wounded me; those keeping the walls lifted my veil from me.