The Beloved to Her Lover:

3 “I have already taken off my robe – must I put it on again?

I have already washed my feet – must I soil them again?”

4 My lover thrust his hand through the hole,

and my feelings were stirred for him.

5 I arose to open for my beloved;

my hands dripped with myrrh –

my fingers flowed with myrrh

on the handles of the lock.

6 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.

7 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!