I am come into my garden, my sister, my bride:
I have gathered my myrrh with my {Or, balsam}spice;
I have eaten my honeycomb with my honey;
I have drunk my wine with my milk.
Eat, O friends;
Drink, yea, drink abundantly, {Or, of love}O beloved.
I {Or, sleep, but my heart waketh}was asleep, but my heart waked:
It is the voice of my beloved that knocketh, saying,
Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my {Hebrew: perfect.}undefiled;
For my head is filled with dew,
My locks with the drops of the night.
I have put off my garment; how shall I put it on?
I have washed my feet; how shall I defile them?
My beloved put in his hand by the hole of the door,
And my {Hebrew: bowels.}heart was moved for him.
I rose up to open to my beloved;
And my hands dropped with myrrh,
And my fingers with liquid myrrh,
Upon the handles of the bolt.
I opened to my beloved;
But my beloved had {Or, turned away}withdrawn himself, and was gone.
My soul {Hebrew: went forth.}had failed me when he spake:
I sought him, but I could not find him;
I called him, but he gave me no answer.
The watchmen that go about the city found me,
They smote me, they wounded me;
The keepers of the walls took away my {Or, veil}mantle from me.
I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem,
If ye find my beloved,
{Hebrew: What will ye tell him? That &c.}That ye tell him, that I am sick from 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 adjure us?
My beloved is white and ruddy,
{Hebrew: Marked out by a banner.}The chiefest among ten thousand.
His head is as the most fine gold;
His locks are {Or, curling}bushy, and black as a raven.
His eyes are like doves beside the water-brooks,
Washed with milk, and {Or, sitting by full streams}fitly set.
His cheeks are as a bed of {Or, balsam}spices,
As {Or, towers of perfumes}banks of sweet herbs:
His lips are as lilies, dropping liquid myrrh.
His hands are as {Or, cylinders}rings of gold set with {Or, topaz}beryl:
His body is as {Or, bright ivory}ivory work {Or, encrusted}overlaid with sapphires.
His legs are as pillars of marble, set upon sockets of fine gold:
His aspect is like Lebanon, excellent as the cedars.
His {Or, speech Hebrew: palate.}mouth is most sweet;
Yea, he is altogether lovely.
This is my beloved, and this is my friend,
O daughters of Jerusalem.
Querverweise zu Hohelied 5,5 Hld 5,5
I {Or, sleep, but my heart waketh}was asleep, but my heart waked:It is the voice of my beloved that knocketh, saying,Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my {Hebrew: perfect.}undefiled;For my head is filled with dew,My locks with the drops of the night.
His cheeks are as a bed of {Or, balsam}spices,As {Or, towers of perfumes}banks of sweet herbs:His lips are as lilies, dropping liquid myrrh.
and be ye yourselves like unto men looking for their lord, when he shall return from the marriage feast; that, when he cometh and knocketh, they may straightway open unto him.
Who is this that cometh up from the wildernessLike pillars of smoke,Perfumed with myrrh and frankincense,With all powders of the merchant?
that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith; to the end that ye, being rooted and grounded in love,
Thy shoots are {Or, a paradise}an orchard of pomegranates, with precious fruits;Henna with spikenard plants,
Behold, I stand at the door and knock: if any man hear my voice and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me.
Spikenard and saffron,Calamus and cinnamon, with all trees of frankincense;Myrrh and aloes, with all the chief spices.
and not by his {Greek: presence. Compare 2 Thessalonians 2:9.}coming only, but also by the comfort wherewith he was comforted in you, while he told us your longing, your mourning, your zeal for me; so that I rejoiced yet more.
I now rejoice, not that ye were made sorry, but that ye were made sorry unto repentance; for ye were made sorry after a godly sort, that ye might suffer loss by us in nothing.
For godly sorrow worketh repentance {Or, unto a salvation which bringeth no regret}unto salvation, a repentance which bringeth no regret: but the sorrow of the world worketh death.
For behold, this selfsame thing, that ye were made sorry after a godly sort, what earnest care it wrought in you, yea what clearing of yourselves, yea what indignation, yea what fear, yea what longing, yea what zeal, yea what avenging! In everything ye approved yourselves to be pure in the matter.