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Beloved

I was asleep, but my heart was awake.
    It is the voice of my beloved who knocks:
    “Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled;
    for my head is filled with dew,
    and my hair with the dampness of the night.”
I have taken off my robe. Indeed, must I put it on?
    I have washed my feet. Indeed, must I soil them?
My beloved thrust his hand in through the latch opening.
    My heart pounded for him.
I rose up to open for my beloved.
    My hands dripped with myrrh,
    my fingers with liquid myrrh,
    on the handles of the lock.
I opened to my beloved;
    but my beloved left, and had gone away.
My heart went out when he spoke.
    I looked for him, but I didn’t find him.
    I called him, but he didn’t answer.
The watchmen who go about the city found me.
    They beat me.
    They bruised me.
    The keepers of the walls took my cloak away from me.

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Another Dream

I was sleeping, but my heart was awake.
The sound of my beloved 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.”(A)
I had put off my garment;
    how could I put it on again?
I had bathed my feet;
    how could I soil them?(B)
My beloved thrust his hand into the opening,
    and my inmost being yearned for him.
I arose to open to my beloved,
    and my hands dripped with myrrh,
my fingers with liquid myrrh,
    upon the handles of the bolt.(C)
I opened to my beloved,
    but my beloved had turned away and was gone.
My soul failed me when he spoke.
I sought him but did not find him;
    I called him, but he gave no answer.(D)
Making their rounds in the city
    the sentinels found me;
they beat me; they wounded me;
    they took away my mantle,
    those sentinels of the walls.(E)

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