I Slept, but My Heart Was Awake
2 I was asleep, but my heart was awake. It is the voice of my beloved who knocks: “Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled; for my head is filled with dew, and my hair with the dampness of the night.” 3 I have taken off my robe. Indeed, must I put it on? I have washed my feet. Indeed, must I soil them? 4 My beloved thrust his hand in through the latch opening. My heart pounded for him. 5 I rose up to open for my beloved. My hands dripped with myrrh, my fingers with liquid myrrh, on the handles of the lock. 6 I opened to my beloved; but my beloved left, and had gone away. My heart went out when he spoke. I looked for him, but I didn’t find him. I called him, but he didn’t answer. 7 The watchmen who go about the city found me. They beat me. They bruised me. The keepers of the walls took my cloak away from me. 8 I adjure you, daughters of Jerusalem, If you find my beloved, that you tell him that I am faint with love.
The second night scene turns on a moment's reluctance, and this time the city's watchmen are not neutral.
I was asleep, but my heart was awake — and his voice arrives knocking, with the fullest string of endearments he ever speaks: my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled. His head is wet with dew; he has crossed the night to stand at her door.
Her answer is the most human moment in the book. I have taken off my robe — must I put it on? I have washed my feet — must I soil them? Not refusal; friction. Comfort negotiating with love, for the length of two questions — and that is long enough. His hand comes through the latch-opening, her heart pounds, she rises with hands dripping myrrh on the bolt — and he is gone. My heart went out when he spoke. I sought him, but did not find him; I called, and he did not answer.
The first search Song of Solomon 3:1–4 is replayed with every outcome reversed — and this time the watchmen beat her, bruise her, strip her cloak. The city that tolerated a searching woman once treats her as a vagrant now. The poem offers no explanation for them and asks for none; the second search costs what the first did not, and the cost is allowed to stand.
Then the adjuration, recut by loss: not do not stir up love, but if you find my beloved, tell him I am faint with love Song of Solomon 5:8. The book is honest that timing can fail inside real love — and the scenes that follow show the failure is not the end.
settled What this mark means