He

I have come into my garden, my sister, my bride;
    I have gathered my myrrh with my spice.
I have eaten my honeycomb and my honey;
    I have drunk my wine and my milk.

Friends

Eat, friends, and drink;
    drink your fill of love.

She

I slept but my heart was awake.
    Listen! My beloved is knocking:
‘Open to me, my sister, my darling,
    my dove, my flawless one.
My head is drenched with dew,
    my hair with the dampness of the night.’
I have taken off my robe –
    must I put it on again?
I have washed my feet –
    must I soil them again?

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