Behold, you are beautiful, My love. Behold, you are beautiful; your eyes are like doves' from behind your veil; your hair is like a flock of goats that appear from Mount Gilead.
I sleep, but my heart is awake. 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.
Woe to those who go down to Egypt for help, and lean on horses and trust in chariots, because it is great; and in horsemen, because they are so very strong, but they do not look to the Holy One of Israel, nor do they seek Jehovah!