⁸ They are wet with the showers of the mountains, And embrace the rock for lack of a shelter.

⁵ Those who did feed delicately are desolate in the streets: Those who were brought up in scarlet embrace dunghills.

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, My hair with the dampness of the night.

³⁸ (of whom the world was not worthy), wandering in deserts, mountains, caves, and the holes of the earth.