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 to Her Lover: Oh, how handsome you are, my lover! Oh, how delightful you are! The lush foliage is our canopied bed;

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 Lover to His Beloved: I have entered my garden, O my sister, my bride; I have gathered my myrrh with my balsam spice. I have eaten my honeycomb and my honey; I have drunk my wine and my milk! The Poet to the Couple: Eat, friends, and drink! Drink freely, O lovers!

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."

The Beloved to Her Lover: "I have already taken off my robe -- must I put it on again? I have already washed my feet -- must I soil them again?"

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.

The watchmen found me as they made their rounds in the city. They beat me, they bruised me; they took away my cloak, those watchmen on the walls!

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.