Your people shall have willingnesses in the day of Your strength; in the majesties of holiness; from the womb of the dawn, to You is the dew of Your youth.
As the apple among the trees of the forest, so is my Beloved among the sons. I delighted in His shadow, and I sat down; and His fruit was sweet to my palate.
My Beloved is likened to a gazelle, or to a young deer, the stag. Behold, He stands behind our wall, peering from the windows, sparkling from the lattice.
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.