I sleep, but my heart is waking. It is the sound of my Beloved that knocks, saying, Open to Me, My sister, My love, My dove, My undefiled. For My head is filled with dew, My locks with the drops of the night.
And, behold, one in form as the sons of men touched my lips. And I opened my mouth and spoke and said to him who stood before me, O lord, because of the vision my pangs have turned on me, and I have no strength left.
I heard, and my belly trembled; my lips quivered at the sound. Rottenness entered into my bones, and I trembled within myself that I might rest for the day of distress; to come up against the peoples, he cuts him off.