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At Night. . .the Watchmen

The Woman

I was sleeping but my heart was awake.
A sound! My lover is knocking:
“Open to me, my sister,
my darling, my dove, my perfect one,
because my head is soaked with dew,
my locks with the dampness of the night.”

“I have taken off my robe.
Why should I get dressed again?
I have washed my feet.
Why should I get them dirty again?”

My lover thrust his hand
through the opening in the door.
My feelings were aroused for him.

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