While I was asleep, my heart was awake,
the voice of my beloved I heard:
"Open to me, my sister,
open to me, my dove,
for my head is wet with dew,
my locks with the drops of the night."
He put his hand through the latch of the door,
my heart stirred within me.
I arose, running,
and my hands dripped with myrrh,
the purest myrrh from my fingers
onto the bolt of the door.
I implore you, daughters of Jerusalem,
if you find my beloved,
tell him I’m dying of love.
I opened to my beloved
but he was not there, he had already gone.
My soul fainted at his flight.
I sought him, but I did not find him,
I called him, I called him, but he did not answer.
The watchmen met me
going the rounds of the city,
they undressed me, they beat me,
the watchmen of the walls.
I implore you, daughters of Jerusalem …
Ay! If you were my brother,
I could kiss you,
without anyone being scandalised.
I implore you daughters of Jerusalem…