I sleep, but my heart waketh: it is the voice of my beloved that knocketh, saying, &a
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 have put off my coat; how shall I put it on? I have washed my feet; how shall I defile them? My beloved put in his hand by the hole of the door, and my bowels were moved for him. 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. I opened to my beloved; but my beloved had withdrawn himself, and was gone: my soul failed when he spake: I sought him, but I could not find him; I called him, but he gave me no answer.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 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 charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if ye find my beloved, that ye tell him, that I am sick of love. - Song of Songs, 5:2-8, The Bible Poet, King James translation The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out, you left me in the dark; no dawn, no day, I’m always in the twilight of the shadow of your heart. - Florence and the Machine, "Cosmic Love” -- source link
#barbicide#orange chairs#solomon#apparition