I
THE BRIDE 

Where have You hidden Yourself, 
And abandoned me in my groaning, O my Beloved? 
You have fled like the hart, 
Having wounded me. 
I ran after You, crying; but You were gone.

II 
O shepherds, you who go 
Through the sheepcots up the hill, 
If you shall see Him 
Whom I love the most, 
Tell Him I languish, suffer, and die.

III 
In search of my Love 
I will go over mountains and strands;
I will gather no flowers, 
I will fear no wild beasts;
And pass by the mighty and the frontiers.

IV 
O groves and thickets 
Planted by the hand of the Beloved; 
O verdant meads 
Enameled with flowers, 
Tell me, has He passed by you?

V
ANSWER OF THE CREATURES 

A thousand graces diffusing
He passed through the groves in haste,
And merely regarding them
As He passed
Clothed them with His beauty.

VI
THE BRIDE 

Oh! who can heal me? 
Give me at once Yourself, 
Send me no more 
A messenger 
Who cannot tell me what I wish.

VII 
All they who serve are telling me 
Of Your unnumbered graces; 
And all wound me more and more, 
And something leaves me dying, 
I know not what, of which they are darkly speaking.

VIII 
But how you persevere, O life, 
Not living where you live; 
The arrows bring death 
Which you receive 
From your conceptions of the Beloved.

IX 
Why, after wounding 
This heart, have You not healed it? 
And why, after stealing it, 
Have You thus abandoned it, 
And not carried away the stolen prey?

X 
Quench my troubles, 
For no one else can soothe them; 
And let my eyes behold You, 
For You are their light, 
And I will keep them for You alone.

XI 
Reveal Your presence, 
And let the vision and Your beauty kill me, 
Behold the malady 
Of love is incurable 
Except in Your presence and before Your face.

XII 
O crystal well!
Oh that on Your silvered surface
You would mirror forth at once
Those eyes desired
Which are outlined in my heart!

XIII 
Turn them away, O my Beloved! 
I am on the wing:

THE BRIDEGROOM 

Return, My Dove!
The wounded hart
Looms on the hill
In the air of your flight and is refreshed.

XIV 
My Beloved is the mountains, 
The solitary wooded valleys, 
The strange islands, 
The roaring torrents, 
The whisper of the amorous gales;

XV 
The tranquil night
At the approaches of the dawn,
The silent music,
The murmuring solitude,
The supper which revives, and enkindles love.

XVI 
Catch us the foxes,
For our vineyard has flourished;
While of roses
We make a nosegay,
And let no one appear on the hill.

XVII 
O killing north wind, cease! 
Come, south wind, that awakens love! 
Blow through my garden, 
And let its odors flow, 
And the Beloved shall feed among the flowers.

XVIII 
O nymphs of Judea! 
While amid the flowers and the rose-trees 
The amber sends forth its perfume, 
Tarry in the suburbs, 
And touch not our thresholds.

XIX 
Hide yourself, O my Beloved! 
Turn Your face to the mountains, 
Do not speak, 
But regard the companions 
Of her who is traveling amidst strange islands.

XX
THE BRIDEGROOM 

Light-winged birds, 
Lions, fawns, bounding does, 
Mountains, valleys, strands, 
Waters, winds, heat, 
And the terrors that keep watch by night;

XXI 
By the soft lyres 
And the siren strains, I adjure you, 
Let your fury cease, 
And touch not the wall, 
That the bride may sleep in greater security.

XXII 
The bride has entered 
The pleasant and desirable garden, 
And there reposes to her heart's content; 
Her neck reclining 
On the sweet arms of the Beloved.

XXIII 
Beneath the apple-tree 
There were you betrothed; 
There I gave you My hand, 
And you were redeemed 
Where your mother was corrupted.

XXIV
THE BRIDE 

Our bed is of flowers 
By dens of lions encompassed, 
Hung with purple, 
Made in peace, 
And crowned with a thousand shields of gold.

XXV 
In Your footsteps 
The young ones run Your way; 
At the touch of the fire 
And by the spiced wine, 
The divine balsam flows.

XXVI 
In the inner cellar 
Of my Beloved have I drunk; and when I went forth 
Over all the plain 
I knew nothing, 
And lost the flock I followed before.

XXVII 
There He gave me His breasts, 
There He taught me the science full of sweetness. 
And there I gave to Him 
Myself without reserve; 
There I promised to be His bride.

XXVIII 
My soul is occupied, 
And all my substance in His service; 
Now I guard no flock, 
Nor have I any other employment: 
My sole occupation is love.

XXIX 
If, then, on the com