Song of Solomon 2
1 I am a rose of Sharon. A lily of the valleys.
| (الْمَحْبُوبَةُ): أَنَا وَرْدَةُ شَارُونَ، سُوسَنَةُ الأَوْدِيَةِ. | ١ |
2 As a lily among thorns, So is my love among the daughters.
| (المُحِبُّ): كَسُوسَنَةٍ بَيْنَ أَشْوَاكٍ، هَكَذَا حَبِيبَتِي بَيْنَ الْبَنَاتِ. | ٢ |
3 As the apple tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his shadow with great delight, and his fruit was sweet to my taste.
| (الْمَحْبُوبَةُ): حَبِيبِي بَيْنَ الْفِتْيَانِ كَشَجَرَةِ تُفَّاحٍ بَيْنَ أَشْجَارِ الْوَعْرِ، تَحْتَ ظِلِّهِ اشْتَهَيْتُ أَنْ أَجْلِسَ، وَثَمَرُهُ حُلْوٌ لِحَلْقِي. | ٣ |
4 He brought me to the banquet house, and his banner over me was love.
| أَتَى بِي إِلَى قَاعَةِ احْتِفَالِهِ، وَرَايَتُهُ فَوْقِي مَحَبَّةٌ. | ٤ |
5 Sustain ye me with raisins, refresh me with apples, for I am sick from love.
| أَسْنِدُونِي بِأَقْرَاصِ الزَّبِيبِ، أَنْعِشُونِي بِالتُّفَّاحِ، فَإِنِّي مَرِيضَةٌ حُبّاً. | ٥ |
6 His left hand is under my head, and his right hand embraces me.
| شِمَالُهُ تَحْتَ رَأْسِي، وَيَمِينُهُ تُعَانِقُنِي. | ٦ |
7 I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, or by the hinds of the field, that ye stir not up, nor awake love, until it please.
| أَسْتَحْلِفُكُنَّ يَا بَنَاتِ أُورُشَلِيمَ بِظِبَاءِ الصَّحْرَاءِ وَأَيَائِلِهَا أَلّا تُوْقِظْنَ أَوْ تُنَبِّهْنَ حَبِيبِي حَتَّى يَشَاءَ. | ٧ |
8 The voice of my beloved! Behold, he comes, leaping upon the mountains, skipping upon the hills.
| هَذَا صَوْتُ حَبِيبِي! هَا هُوَ آتٍ طَافِراً عَلَى الْجِبَالِ وَاثِباً فَوْقَ التِّلالِ. | ٨ |
9 My beloved is like a roe or a young hart. Behold, he stands behind our wall. He looks in at the windows. He glances through the lattice.
| حَبِيبِي كَظَبْيٍ أَوْ كَالأُيَّلِ الْفَتِيِّ. هَا هُوَ وَاقِفٌ وَرَاءَ جِدَارِنَا يَرْنُو مِنَ الْكُوَى وَيَسْتَرِقُ النَّظَرَ مِنْ خِلالِ النَّوَافِذِ الْمُشَبَّكَةِ. | ٩ |
10 My beloved spoke, and said to me, Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.
| خَاطَبَنِي حَبِيبِي وَقَالَ: انْهَضِي يَا حَبِيبَتِي يَا جَمِيلَتِي وَتَعَالَيْ مَعِي، | ١٠ |
11 For, lo, the winter is past. The rain is over and gone.
| فَهَا الشِّتَاءُ قَدِ انْقَضَى، وَكَفَّ الْمَطَرُ وَزَالَ. | ١١ |
12 The flowers appear on the earth. The time of the singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land.
| وَأَزْهَرَتِ الأَرْضُ، وَحَلَّ مَوْسِمُ التَّغْريِدِ، وَتَرَدَّدَ هَدِيلُ الْيَمَامِ فِي أَرْضِنَا. | ١٢ |
13 The fig tree ripens her green figs, and the vines are in blossom. They give forth their fragrance. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.
| قَدْ أَنْبَتَتِ التِّينَةُ فِجَّهَا، وَنَشَرَتِ الْكُرُومُ الْمُزْهِرَةُ عَبِيرَهَا، فَانْهَضِي يَا حَبِيبَتِيِ يَا جَمِيلَتِي وَتَعَالَيْ. | ١٣ |
14 O my dove, who are in the clefts of the rock, in the covert of the steep place, let me see thy countenance; let me hear thy voice. For sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely.
| (المُحِبُّ): يَا حَمَامَتِي الْمُحْتَمِيَةَ بِشُقُوقِ الصَّخْرِ وَمَخَابِئِ الْجِبَالِ، أَرِينِي وَجْهَكِ وَأَسْمِعِينِي صَوْتَكِ، لأَنَّ صَوْتَكِ عَذْبٌ وَمُحَيَّاكِ رَائِعٌ. | ١٤ |
15 Take us the foxes, the little foxes, that spoil the vineyards. For our vineyards are in blossom.
| اقْتَنِصُوا لَنَا الثَّعَالِبَ الصِّغَارَ الَّتِي تُتْلِفُ الْكُرُومَ، فَإِنَّ كُرُومَنَا قَدْ أَزْهَرَتْ. | ١٥ |
16 My beloved is mine, and I am his. He feeds among the lilies.
| (الْمَحْبُوبَةُ): حَبِيبِي لِي وَأَنَا لَهُ، هُوَ يَرْعَى قَطِيعَهُ بَيْنَ السَّوْسَنِ. | ١٦ |
17 Until the day be cool, and the shadows flee away, turn, my beloved, and be thou like a roe or a young hart upon the mountains of Bether.
| إِلَى أَنْ يَطْلَعَ النَّهَارُ وَتَنْهَزِمَ الظِّلالُ، ارْجِعْ يَا حَبِيبِي وَكُنْ كَالظَّبْيِ أَوِ الأُيَّلِ الْفَتِيِّ عَلَى جِبَالِ الأَطْيَابِ. | ١٧ |
