Poetry Archives

I.

The long-closed door, oh open it again, send me back once more my
     fawn that had fled.
On the day of our reunion, thou shalt rest by my side, there wilt
     thou shed over me the streams of thy delicious perfume.
Oh beautiful bride, what is the form of thy friend, that thou say
     to me, Release him, send him away?
He is the beautiful-eyed one of ruddy glorious aspect—that is my
     friend, him do thou detain.

                              II.

Hail to thee, Son of my friend, the ruddy, the bright-colored one!
     Hail to thee whose temples are like a pomegranate.
Hasten to the refuge of thy sister, and protect the son of Isaiah
     against the troops of the Ammonites.
What art thou, O Beauty, that thou shouldst inspire love? that thy
     voice should ring like the voices of the bells upon the priestly
     garments?
The hour wherein thou desireth my love, I shall hasten to meet thee.
     Softly will I drop beside thee like the dew upon Hermon.