← Song of Solomon 4 | Song of Solomon 6 →
1 I have come to my garden, my sister, my bride; 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, and drink; drink freely, O beloved. | C | TOSK |
2 I sleep, but my heart is awake. A sound! My beloved is knocking: “Open to me, my sister, my darling, my dove, my flawless one. My head is drenched with dew, my hair with the dampness of the night.” | TOSK |
3 I have taken off my robe—must I put it back on? I have washed my feet—must I soil them again? | TOSK |
4 My beloved put his hand to the latch; my heart pounded for him. | TOSK |
5 I rose up to open for my beloved. My hands dripped with myrrh, my fingers with flowing myrrh on the handles of the bolt. | TOSK |
6 I opened for my beloved, but he had turned and gone. My heart sank at his departure. I sought him, but did not find him. I called, but he did not answer. | TOSK |
7 I encountered the watchmen on their rounds of the city. They beat me and bruised me; they took away my cloak, those guardians of the walls. | TOSK |
8 O daughters of Jerusalem, I adjure you, if you find my beloved, tell him I am sick with love. | TOSK |
9 How is your beloved better than others, O most beautiful among women? How is your beloved better than another, that you charge us so? | TOSK |
10 My beloved is dazzling and ruddy, outstanding among ten thousand. | TOSK |
11 His head is purest gold; his hair is wavy and black as a raven. | TOSK |
12 His eyes are like doves beside the streams of water, bathed in milk and mounted like jewels. | TOSK |
13 His cheeks are like beds of spice, towers of perfume. His lips are like lilies, dripping with flowing myrrh. | TOSK |
14 His arms are rods of gold set with beryl. His body is an ivory panel bedecked with sapphires. | C | TOSK |
15 His legs are pillars of marble set on bases of pure gold. His appearance is like Lebanon, as majestic as the cedars. | C | TOSK |
16 His mouth is most sweet; he is altogether lovely. This is my beloved, and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem. | C | TOSK |