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- I have come into my garden, my sister, my bride; I have gathered my myrrh with my spice. I have eaten my honeycomb and my honey; I have drunk my wine and my milk. Eat, O friends, and drink; drink your fill, O lovers.
- I slept but my heart was awake. Listen! My lover is knocking: "Open to me, my sister, my darling, my dove, my flawless one. My head is drenched with dew, my hair with the dampness of the night."
- I have taken off my robe-- must I put it on again? I have washed my feet-- must I soil them again?
- My lover thrust his hand through the latch-opening; my heart began to pound for him.
- I arose to open for my lover, and my hands dripped with myrrh, my fingers with flowing myrrh, on the handles of the lock.
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- ªïª¿ª·ªÎ æǪ·ª¤ ìÑªÏ £¯îåÔÞßäªË ýʪ£¬ ªÒªÈªªï ÙÍØ¡ªÄ£®
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- I opened for my lover, but my lover had left; he was gone. My heart sank at his departure. I looked for him but did not find him. I called him but he did not answer.
- 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 of the walls!
- O daughters of Jerusalem, I charge you-- if you find my lover, what will you tell him? Tell him I am faint with love.
- How is your beloved better than others, most beautiful of women? How is your beloved better than others, that you charge us so?
- My lover is radiant and ruddy, outstanding among ten thousand.
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- His head is purest gold; his hair is wavy and black as a raven.
- His eyes are like doves by the water streams, washed in milk, mounted like jewels.
- His cheeks are like beds of spice yielding perfume. His lips are like lilies dripping with myrrh.
- His arms are rods of gold set with chrysolite. His body is like polished ivory decorated with sapphires.
- His legs are pillars of marble set on bases of pure gold. His appearance is like Lebanon, choice as its cedars.
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- His mouth is sweetness itself; he is altogether lovely. This is my lover, this my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem.
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