Song of Solomon Chapter 5
I'm chillin' in my garden, fam, with my partner: I scooped my myrrh and spices; I nibbled on honeycomb and honey; I sipped my wine mixed with milk: chow down, crew; drink up, fr, drink it all, my love.
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. {yea...: or, and be drunken with loves}
I’m catching some Z's, but my heart's fully awake: it's my babe's voice knockin', sayin', "Let me in, my sis, my love, my dove, my pure one: my head's all dewy, and my hair's drippin' from the night vibes."
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 tossed my coat; how am I supposed to throw it back on? I washed my feet; why mess 'em up now?
I have put off my coat; how shall I put it on? I have washed my feet; how shall I defile them?
My babe reached through the door, and I felt all the feels for him.
My beloved put in his hand by the hole {of the door}, and my bowels were moved for him. {for him: or, (as some read) in me}
I got up to let my boo in; my hands were dripping with myrrh, and my fingers were all fragrant on the lock.
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. {sweet...: Heb. passing, or, running about}
I opened up for my boo; but he bounced on me, and I was shook: my soul was like, "No cap!" when he spoke: I looked for him, but couldn’t catch him; I called out, but he ghosted me.
I opened to my beloved; but my beloved had withdrawn himself, {and} was gone: my soul failed when he spake: I sought him, but I could not find him; I called him, but he gave me no answer.
The watchmen cruising the city found me, they hit me, they hurt me; the wall guards snatched my veil away.
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.
I’m telling you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if you spot my boo, tell him I’m love-sick.
I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if ye find my beloved, that ye tell him, that I {am} sick of love. {that ye: Heb. what, etc}
What makes your boo better than mine, O you finest among girls? Why you gotta grill us like this?
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?
My boo's got that white and ruddy vibe, the GOAT among ten thousand.
My beloved {is} white and ruddy, the chiefest among ten thousand. {the chiefest: Heb. a standard-bearer}
His head's like fine gold, his hair's all bushy and black like a raven's feathers.
His head {is as} the most fine gold, his locks {are} bushy, {and} black as a raven. {bushy: or, curled}
His eyes are like doves chilling by the water, washed with milk, and perfectly set.
His eyes {are} as {the eyes} of doves by the rivers of waters, washed with milk, {and} fitly set. {fitly...: Heb. sitting in fulness, that is, fitly placed, and set as a precious stone in the foil of a ring}
His cheeks are like a spice bed, all sweet flowers: his lips like lilies, droppin' that sweet myrrh.
His cheeks {are} as a bed of spices, {as} sweet flowers: his lips {like} lilies, dropping sweet smelling myrrh. {sweet flowers: or, towers of perfumes}
His hands are like gold rings with beryl: his belly’s shining like ivory layered with sapphires.
His hands {are as} gold rings set with the beryl: his belly {is as} bright ivory overlaid {with} sapphires.
His legs are like marble pillars, set on fine gold bases: his vibe is like Lebanon, top tier like the cedars.
His legs {are as} pillars of marble, set upon sockets of fine gold: his countenance {is} as Lebanon, excellent as the cedars.
His mouth is so sweet: for real, he’s just lovely. This is my boo, and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem.
His mouth {is} most sweet: yea, he {is} altogether lovely. This {is} my beloved, and this {is} my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem. {mouth: Heb. palate}