Canticum canticorum

You have ravished my heart, my sister, my bride,
you have ravished my heart with a glance of your eyes,
with one jewel of your necklace.
How sweet is your love, my sister, my bride!
how much better is your love than wine,
and the fragrance of your oils than any spice!
Your lips distil nectar, my bride;
heney and milk are under your tongue;
the scent of your garments is like the scent of Lebanon.
A garden locked is my sister, my bride,
a garden locked, a fountain sealed.
Your shoots are an orchard of pomegranates
with all choicest fruits, henna with nard,
nard and saffron calamus and cinnamon,
with all trees of frankincense,
myrrh and aloes, with all chief spices -
a garden fountain, a well of living water,
and flowing streams from Lebanon.

Awake, O north wind,
and come, O south wind!
Blow upon myp garden,
let its fragrance be wafted abroad.
Let my beloved come to his garden
and eat its choicest fruits.

I come to my garden, my sister, my bride,
I gather my myrrh with my spice,
I eat my honeycomb with my honey,
I drink my wine with my milk.

Eat , O friends, and drink:
drink deeply, O lovers!

I slept, but my heart was awake.
Hark! my beloved is knocking.
"Open to me my sister, my love,
my dove, my perfect one;
for my head is wet with dew,
my locks with the drops of the night."

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