1 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.
Your body is every bit as beautiful as I dreamed. Every touch, every taste takes me to new places of ecstasy. There is nothing left to my imagination, for I feel your welcoming warmth inviting me to explore every mysterious place on your body. I have had my fill thanks to your freedom, your inhibition to let me in.
Eat, O friends, and drink; drink your fill, O lovers.
After years of holding yourselves back from each other, you are free to eat, drink and be merry! Doesn’t it still feel like you’re doing something wrong, something naughty? But you’re not. It’s not longer a guilty pleasure.
2 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.”
When I went to bed that night, my heart couldn’t stop fluttering with excitement! It kept me up even though my eyes were closed. But then I heard someone knocking on the bedroom door and I was startled. The voice was that of my lover. He must have locked himself out of the bedroom. “Please open the door, my darling, my dove, my perfection and completion. I couldn’t sleep so I went outside to get a breath of fresh air and I must have locked the door in my haste.”
3 I have taken off my robe—must I put it on again? I have washed my feet—must I soil them again?
“But I am lying naked under these blankets, nice and cozy and warm, and my robe is way across the room! The floor is cold to the feet and the air chilly to the skin! Are you sure you can’t find another way in?” Of course I was saying this in jest.
4 My lover thrust his hand through the latch-opening; my heart began to pound for him.
Just as I finished teasing him, he thrust his hand through the latch-opening and I could see his fingers trying to unlock the door that was fastened on the inside—to no avail. My heart started to beat fast for him. I love to see the strength of his unbridled desire for me; it turns me on.
5 I arose to open for my lover, and my hands dripped with myrrh, my fingers with flowing myrrh, on the handles of the lock.
Eventually he gave up and I could hear his footsteps walking away from the door. I quickly jumped out of bed—naked and warm—and opened the door with my trembling hand, but it was too late; he was gone.
6 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.
My heart sank inside of me. I regretted not getting up when he was asking me to, for I was looking forward to feeling his warm body against my own. I called out for him and even wrapped a sheet around my body and went looking for him, but he was nowhere to be found.
7 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!
I lost all dignity and walked the streets in search of him in my undergarments. Love makes you do some pretty silly things as you look back upon them, but in the moment, all you can think about is the love of your life. It wasn’t long before people started noticing my desperation and started making fun of me for being so needy and immature. It made me feel so stupid!
8 O daughters of Jerusalem, I charge you—if you find my lover, what will you tell him? Tell him I am faint with love.
I found my friends and asked them to help me look for him. I was starting to get worried that I had done something to offend him and that he was going to do something foolish as a reaction to my inaction. “What do you want us to tell him if we find him?” my friends asked sheepishly. “Tell him that I am faint with love for him.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say.
9 How is your beloved better than others, most beautiful of women? How is your beloved better than others, that you charge us so?
What is it about this guy that is so great? Why would you risk your reputation like this in search for him? And why would he leave you longing so if he was the kind of man you say he is? Isn’t it possible that you love him more than he loves you?
10 My lover is radiant and ruddy, outstanding among ten thousand.
Listen here, everybody! I know who he is. He is a good man valiant inside and out. He stands above his peers in everyway, outstanding among ten thousand to be exact.
11 His head is purest gold; his hair is wavy and black as a raven.
He has a great head on his shoulders; I’ve seen it time and time again in pressure situations. He doesn’t flinch in the face of conflict, no matter the odds.
12 His eyes are like doves by the water streams, washed in milk, mounted like jewels.
His eyes can look through you, he doesn’t have an ounce of self-doubt and yet he isn’t self-confident to a fault. You can see the humility in his gaze.
13 His cheeks are like beds of spice yielding perfume. His lips are like lilies dripping with myrrh.
When I look upon his face, I see gentle strength. His cheek and jaw bones look as if they’ve been carved out of marble, but his lips are soft like the surface of a grassy meadow. Sometimes I catch myself staring at his mouth just wanting to kiss it.
14 His arms are rods of gold set with chrysolite. His body is like polished ivory decorated with sapphires
His arms are like chiseled pillars of power, casting small shadows that show off his muscle’s definition. His body is tone from head to toe, every thing is perfectly in its place. I love staring at his backside when he’s walking in front of me and I can tell other girls do as well.
15 His legs are pillars of marble set on bases of pure gold. His appearance is like Lebanon, choice as its cedars.
His legs are gorgeously in shape. He takes care of himself and it shows. It makes me feel like he loves me when he doesn’t let himself go. I am hopelessly attracted to every part of his body; I can’t keep my hands off him!
16 His mouth is sweetness itself; he is altogether lovely. This is my lover, this my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem.
I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating: his mouth is delicious, I tell you! When my lips touch his I get goose bumps up and down my whole body. Kissing him is altogether lovely.
He’s not just my lover; he’s my best friend. And I want every girl around to know one thing: You may not be able to keep your eyes off of him, but you had better keep your hands off of him, cause he’s all mine.