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Feed me with raisin cakes, comfort me with apples, for I am sick with love.

I will rise now and go about the city, in the streets and in the broad ways; I will seek Him whom my soul loves. I sought Him, but I did not find Him.

I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if you find my Beloved, what do you tell Him? That I am sick with love.

Where has your Beloved gone, most beautiful among women? Where has your Beloved turned? For we seek Him along with you.