1. I have come to my garden, my sister, my bride; I have gathered my myrrh with spices, I have eaten my honey and my honeycomb, I have drunk my milk and my wine. Friends, eat and drink! Drink your fill, my dearest ones!

2. I slept, but my heart kept vigil. I heard the knock of my beloved. "Open to me, my sister, my love, my perfect one, my dove! My head is wet with dew, my hair with the drops of the night."

3. I have taken off my robe; must I put it on again? I have washed my feet; must I soil them again?

4. My lover thrust his hand through the lock opening and my heart thrilled for him.

5. I rose to open the door. Myrrh from my hands dripped on the handle of the lock.

6. I opened to my lover but he had turned and gone - my soul went after him! I sought him but did not find him; I called him but he did not answer.

7. The watchmen came upon me those who patrol the city; they beat me and wounded me; they took away my mantle - oh, those guardians of the walls!

8. I beg you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if you ever find my lover - Oh, what will you tell him? Tell him that love makes me sick.

9. How is your lover better than others, most beautiful woman? How is your lover better than others, that you do so beg us?

10. Radiant and ruddy, my lover stands out among thousands.

11. Pure gold is his head, palm fronds are his hair, glossy black like the raven.

12. His eyes are doves beside running waters, bathed in milk and set like jewels.

13. His fragrant cheeks are like beds of spice; his lips like lilies dripping with myrrh.

14. His hands are rods of gold adorned with jewels; his body is polished ivory covered with sapphires,

15. set upon bases of gold; his legs are pillars of alabaster. He has the stature of Lebanon, excelling like the cedars.

16. His mouth is sweetness itself; he is most worthy of desire. O daughters of Jerusalem, such is my friend and lover.





“Vive-se de fé, não de sonhos.” São Padre Pio de Pietrelcina