Song of Solomon 5

I am come into my garden, my sister, my spouse: I have gathered my myrrh with my spice; I have eaten my honeycomb with my honey; I have drunk my wine with my milk: eat, O friends; drink, yea, drink abundantly, O beloved.

I've entered my garden, my dear sister and wife. I collected my fragrance with my spice. I ate my sweet treat made of honey with its honey. I drank my wine mixed with milk. Enjoy, dear friends! Drink plenty, my dearest love!

I sleep, but my heart waketh: it is the voice of my beloved that knocketh, saying, Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled: for my head is filled with dew, and my locks with the drops of the night.

I sleep, but my heart stays awake. It's my lover's voice knocking, asking, "Open to me, my dear, my love, my pure one. I'm wet from the morning dew and my hair is damp from nighttime."

I have put off my coat; how shall I put it on? I have washed my feet; how shall I defile them?

I took off my coat, what do I do now to wear it again? I cleaned my feet, how can I make them dirty again?

My beloved put in his hand by the hole of the door, and my bowels were moved for him.

My love reached out near the door's hole, and I felt deeply touched for them.

I rose up to open to my beloved; and my hands dropped with myrrh, and my fingers with sweet smelling myrrh, upon the handles of the lock.

I got up to open for my love; my hands were covered with fragrant myrrh, and my fingers too, on the door handle.

I opened to my beloved; but my beloved had withdrawn himself, and was gone: my soul failed when he spake: I sought him, but I could not find him; I called him, but he gave me no answer.

I showed my love, but my loved one left. They didn't respond when I searched for them or called out their name. My heart was sad and empty.

The watchmen that went about the city found me, they smote me, they wounded me; the keepers of the walls took away my veil from me.

The guards around the city discovered me, they hit me, they hurt me; the wall protectors removed my covering from me.

I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if ye find my beloved, that ye tell him, that I am sick of love.

I ask you, daughters of Jerusalem, if you find my loved one, to tell him that I'm overwhelmed with love.

What is thy beloved more than another beloved, O thou fairest among women? what is thy beloved more than another beloved, that thou dost so charge us?

What makes your special person more important than others, you who are the most beautiful woman? Why do you put such emphasis on this person compared to others?

My beloved is white and ruddy, the chiefest among ten thousand.

My love is fair and rosy, the best one among tens of thousands.

His head is as the most fine gold, his locks are bushy, and black as a raven.

His head is like very pure gold, his hair is thick and black, like a raven bird.

His eyes are as the eyes of doves by the rivers of waters, washed with milk, and fitly set.

His eyes are like dove's eyes near river waters, cleaned with milk, and properly placed.

His cheeks are as a bed of spices, as sweet flowers: his lips like lilies, dropping sweet smelling myrrh.

His cheeks are like a bed of fragrant spices, with sweet flower-like scent: his lips are like lilies, releasing sweet-smelling myrrh.

His hands are as gold rings set with the beryl: his belly is as bright ivory overlaid with sapphires.

His hands look like golden rings with sparkly stones, and his belly is shiny ivory decorated with beautiful blue stones.

His legs are as pillars of marble, set upon sockets of fine gold: his countenance is as Lebanon, excellent as the cedars.

His legs are like strong marble columns, standing on golden bases. His face is like the beautiful Lebanese mountains with tall cedar trees.

His mouth is most sweet: yea, he is altogether lovely. This is my beloved, and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem.

His mouth is very sweet, and he is completely beautiful. He is my favorite person, and he's my friend. To all the women in Jerusalem.