I come into my garden, my sister bride; I pluck my myrrh with my spice; I eat my honey of the forest with my honey; I drink my wine with my milk; eat, O friends; drink and intoxicate, O beloved. 2
THE WOMAN QUOTES THE MAN
I sleep, but my heart wakens; the voice of my beloved knocks, Open to me, my sister, my friend, my dove, my integrious; for my head fills with dewdrops – my locks with the dewdrops of the night. 3 I strip my coat; how enrobe I? I wash my feet; how foul I? 4
THE WOMAN SPEAKS FOR HERSELF
My beloved spreads his hand by the hole and my inwards roar for him. 5 I rise to open to my beloved; my hands drip myrrh – my fingers with myrrh; it passes on the palms of the lock. 6 I open to my beloved; but my beloved withdraws; he passes on; my soul fails when he words: I seek him, but I find him not; I call him, but he answers not.
— Song of Solomon 5 (exeGeses Companion Bible)
God is holy. But he’s no moralistic Puritan.