They are wet with the showers of the mountains, and embrace the rock for lack of a shelter.
They lie all night naked without clothing, and have no covering in the cold.
There are those who pluck the fatherless from the breast, and take a pledge of the poor,
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.*
Those who did feed delicately are desolate in the streets: Those who were brought up in scarlet embrace dunghills.
(of whom the world was not worthy), wandering in deserts, mountains, caves, and the holes of the earth.