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Dodi (my beloved) thrust his hand through the latchopening, my heart began pounding for him.

I arose to open to dodi (my beloved); and my hands dripped with myrrh, and my fingers with sweet smelling myrrh, upon the handles of the man’ul (lock, door bolt).

I opened to dodi (my beloved); but dodi had withdrawn and gone; my nefesh departed when he spoke; I sought him, but I could not find him; I called him, but he gave me no answer.

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