I slept and my heart waked: the voice of my beloved knocks at the door; Open to me, my sister, my friend, my dove, my perfect one: my head was filled with dew, my locks with the drops of the night

His head purified gold, his locks waving branches, black as a raven.

Thy head upon thee as Carmel, and the locks of thy head as purple; the King being bound in curls.