Behold, you are beautiful, My love. Behold, you are beautiful; your eyes are as doves’ from behind your veil. Your hair is like a flock of goats which recline from Mount Gilead.
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 I, John, saw the holy city, New Jerusalem, coming down out of Heaven from God, having been prepared as a bride, having been adorned for her Husband.