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?
My beloved thrust his hand through the latch-opening;
    my heart began to pound for him.

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