S. S. 4:1 |
Oh, you are beautiful, my love! / Oh, you are beautiful! Your eyes are [like] doves behind your veil; / Your hair is like a flock of goats / That repose on Mount Gilead. |
S. S. 4:2 |
Your teeth are like a flock of shorn ewes / That have come up from the washing, / All of which have borne twins, / And none of them is bereaved of her young. |
S. S. 4:3 |
Your lips are like a scarlet thread, / And your mouth is lovely; / Your cheeks are like a piece of pomegranate / Behind your veil. |
S. S. 4:4 |
Your neck is like the tower of David, / Built for an armory: / A thousand bucklers hang on it, / All the shields of the mighty men. |
S. S. 4:5 |
Your two breasts are like two fawns, / Twins of a gazelle, / That feed among the lilies. |
S. S. 4:6 |
Until the day dawns and the shadows flee away, / I, for my part, will go to the mountain of myrrh / And to the hill of frankincense. |
S. S. 4:7 |
You are altogether beautiful, my love, / And there is no blemish in you. |
S. S. 4:8 |
[Come] with me from Lebanon, [my] bride; / With me from Lebanon come. / Look from the top of Amana, / From the top of Senir and Hermon, / From the lions' dens, / From the leopards' mountains. |
S. S. 4:9 |
You have ravished my heart, my sister, [my] bride; / You have ravished my heart with one [glance] of your eyes, / With one strand of your necklace. |
S. S. 4:10 |
How beautiful is your love, my sister, [my] bride! / How much better is your love than wine, / And the fragrance of your ointments / Than all spices! |
S. S. 4:11 |
Your lips drip fresh honey, [my] bride; / Honey and milk are under your tongue; / And the fragrance of your garments / Is like the fragrance of Lebanon. |
S. S. 4:12 |
A garden enclosed is my sister, [my] bride, / A spring shut up, a fountain sealed. |
S. S. 4:13 |
Your shoots are an orchard of pomegranates / With choicest fruit; / Henna with spikenard, |
S. S. 4:14 |
Spikenard and saffron; / Calamus and cinnamon, / With all the trees of frankincense; / Myrrh and aloes, / With all the chief spices. |
S. S. 4:15 |
A fountain in gardens, / A well of living water, / And streams from Lebanon. |
S. S. 4:16 |
Awake, O north wind; / And come, O south wind! / Blow upon my garden: / Let its spices flow forth; / Let my beloved come into his garden / And eat his choicest fruit. |