Song of Songs
Chapter 5
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!
XIV. Second Nocturne
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.”
I have taken off my robe;must I put it on again?I have washed my feet;must I soil them again?
My lover thrust his hand through the lock opening and my heart thrilled for him.
I rose to open the door. Myrrh from my hands dripped on the handle of the lock.
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.
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!
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.
XV. Such Is My Beloved
How is your lover better than others,most beautiful woman?How is your lover better than others,that you do so beg us?
Radiant and ruddy, my lover stands out among thousands.
Pure gold is his head,palm fronds are his hair,glossy black like the raven.
His eyes are doves beside running waters,bathed in milk and set like jewels.
His fragrant cheeks are like beds of spice;his lips like lilies dripping with myrrh.
His hands are rods of gold adorned with jewels;his body is polished ivory covered with sapphires,
set upon bases of gold; his legs are pillars of alabaster. He has the stature of Lebanon, excelling like the cedars.
His mouth is sweetness itself; he is most worthy of desire. O daughters of Jerusalem, such is my friend and lover.
Commentaries
Second Nocturne.
The woman wounded by love during the banquet has already dreamed once (3:1-5). She dreams again on the second night, ending with an incantation directed at the “girls of Jerusalem” (as in 3:5). This second dream is more intense, turning into a nightmare. The watchful heart perceives a distant rumble. Attentive ears first hear a knock at the door and then the clear words of the beloved. If it is the beloved who responds to the request, her response may sound like procrastination, which may further stir desire. But perhaps it is all just a dream: both the voice of the beloved and the girl’s response. In fact, the woman dreams of total surrender and describes her ineffable experience with the phrase: “My insides trembled.” Jeremiah applies this to God’s tenderness (Jr 31:20) and to the Gospel’s account of Jesus’ love for Lazarus (Jn 11:33, 38). Once she is up, the face and voice of her beloved disappear. Only a few fingers remain, from which myrrh flows—unclear whether they belong to the woman or the man. The search proves futile, and her call goes unanswered. The city guards are not questioned; instead, they abuse the woman, likely recognizing her by her clothing: her veil. The pain of love becomes unbearable, so much so that the woman no longer asks the girls of Jerusalem not to wake or reveal love, but to tell the beloved that the woman in love has been wounded by Love, again without an article in the Hebrew text. This wound hurts far more than insults or nightmares. It wounds the soul when the one who loves passionately cannot find her beloved.
Such Is My Beloved.
Formally, this idyll is a continuation of the previous one: it responds to the incantation. Thematically, it is a reply to the idyll we heard in 4:1-7. The description of the man’s naked body highlights what makes the beloved special. A blend of colors—from the black of his hair to the white of his eyes, passing through pink and gold—includes noble minerals like ivory and alabaster, as well as pearls, gems, and sapphires; gold adorns his head, half his body, and his feet; balsam and aromatic plants, along with a height similar to cedar trees, serve to depict him more as a sacred statue than a human figure. A sense of life and movement emerges in the description of his lips that drip liquid myrrh. However, this statue radiates an almost divine light: he shines throughout. For the woman in love, nothing is cold about the description; everything about her beloved makes him charming and desirable. At the end of the idyll, it’s emphasized: “This is my beloved, this is my friend, girls of Jerusalem.” Truly, no one is like him. No one combines so much light and so many colors in such a brief space. Nobody compares to the body of the beloved.