Study Desk

SHEI, 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.

I have put off my tunic, oh how shall I put it on? I have bathed my feet, oh how shall I soil them?

My beloved, thrust in his hand, at the window, and, my feelings, were deeply moved for him:

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.

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.

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.