And when the men of the place asked about his wife, he said, “She is my sister.” For he was afraid to say, “She is my wife,” thinking, “lest the men of the place should kill me for Riḇ
I was sleeping, But my heart was awake – the voice of my beloved! He knocks, “Open for me, my sister, My love, my dove, my perfect one; For my head is drenched with dew, My locks with the drops of the night.”