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¹⁰ How sweet is your love, my sister, my bride!
   how much better is your love than wine,
   and the fragrance of your oils than any spice!
¹¹ Your lips distil nectar, my bride;
   honey and milk are under your tongue;
   the scent of your garments is like the scent of Lebanon.
¹² A garden locked is my sister, my bride,
   a garden locked, a fountain sealed.
¹³ Your channel^* is an orchard of pomegranates
   with all choicest fruits,
   henna with nard,
¹⁴ nard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon,
   with all trees of frankincense,
myrrh and aloes,
   with all chief spices—
¹⁵ a garden fountain, a well of living water,
   and flowing streams from Lebanon.

¹⁶ Awake, O north wind,
   and come, O south wind!
Blow upon my garden
   that its fragrance may be wafted abroad.
Let my beloved come to his garden,
   and eat its choicest fruits.

5I come to my garden, my sister, my bride;
   I gather my myrrh with my spice,
   I eat my honeycomb with my honey,
   I drink my wine with my milk.

Eat, friends, drink,
   and be drunk with love.

Another Dream

² I slept, but my heart was awake.
Listen! my beloved is 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.’
³ I had put off my garment;
   how could I put it on again?
I had bathed my feet;
   how could I soil them?
⁴ My beloved thrust his hand into the opening,
   and my inmost being yearned for him.