The Beloved to the Maidens: I am dark but lovely, O maidens of Jerusalem, dark like the tents of Qedar, lovely like the tent curtains of Salmah.

The Beloved about Her Lover: All night long on my bed I longed for my lover. I longed for him but he never appeared.

"I will arise and look all around throughout the town, and throughout the streets and squares; I will search for my beloved." I searched for him but I did not find him.

The Beloved about Her Lover: I was asleep, but my mind was dreaming. Listen! My lover is knocking at the door! The Lover to His Beloved: "Open for me, my sister, my darling, my dove, my flawless one! My head is drenched with dew, my hair with the dampness of the night."

I opened for my beloved, but my lover had already turned and gone away. I fell into despair when he departed. I looked for him but did not find him; I called him but he did not answer me.

But she is unique! My dove, my perfect one! She is the special daughter of her mother, she is the favorite of the one who bore her. The maidens saw her and complimented her; the queens and concubines praised her:

If she is a wall, we will build on her a battlement of silver; but if she is a door, we will barricade her with boards of cedar.