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Non-Exact Match

A locked garden is My sister, My spouse; a rock heap locked up, a fountain sealed.

I sleep, but my heart is awake. It is the sound of my Beloved that knocks, saying, Open to Me, My sister, My love, My dove, My undefiled; for My head is filled with dew, My locks with the drops of the night.

His head is like refined gold; His locks are bushy, black as a raven.