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A knock met with hesitation
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.
I have taken off my robe. Indeed, must I put it on? I have washed my feet. Indeed, must I soil them?