Kiss me on my lips for your love is better than wine. I sleep, but my heart is awake: waiting for my beloved. I seek him in the streets, the alleys but he is not to be seen anywhere.
Girls, I charge you if you find him to tell him that I am sick with his love.
My beloved is knocking my door. I am mad at his delay. I turn away. He begged me to let him in. I went to bed so he walked away.
My heart melted at his retreat. I rushed out and sought him in the streets but could not find him. I called him but there was no answer. The watchmen that went about the city took away my veil from me. They dragged me to my mother’s house.
Miraculously, I found him. I held him and would not let him go. He embraced me with his arm and his banner over me was love.
What is your beloved more than another beloved?
I am his and he is mine.