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“I sleep, but my heart wakes. It is the voice of my well-beloved who knocks, saying, ‘Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled. For my head is full of dew, and my locks with the drops of the night.’

“I have taken off my garment, how shall I put it on? I have washed my feet. How shall I soil them?

“My well-beloved put in his hand by the opening, and my core was moved toward him.

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