I wish that his left hand were under my head, and that his right hand were embracing me!

I had just passed them when I found the one I love. I held him and wouldn't let him go until I brought him to my mother's house, to the room of the one who conceived me.

I was asleep, but my heart was awake. There's a sound! My beloved is knocking. "Open up for me, my sister, my darling, my dove, my perfect one. For my head is drenched with dew, my hair with the dampness of the night."

I opened the door for my beloved, but my beloved had turned away; he was gone! My very life went out when he departed. I searched for him, but couldn't find him. I called out to him, but he didn't answer.

His head is pure gold, his hair is wavy, black like a raven.

I went down to the walnut orchard, to look at the green sprouts in the valley, to see whether the vine had budded, whether the pomegranates had blossomed.

Your head crowns you like Mount Carmel. Your flowing locks are like purple, and a king could be captured in the dangling tresses.

Let his left hand be under my head, and let his right hand embrace me.

Who is this coming up from the desert, leaning on her beloved? Under theapple tree I awakened you. There your mother had gone into labor with you; there she went into labor and gave birth to you.