Song of Solomon 2
1 I am a rose of Sharon, A lily of the valleys.
| أَنَا نَرْجِسُ شَارُونَ، سَوْسَنَةُ ٱلْأَوْدِيَةِ. | ١ |
2 As a lily among thorns, So is my love among the daughters.
| كَٱلسَّوْسَنَةِ بَيْنَ ٱلشَّوْكِ كَذَلِكَ حَبِيبَتِي بَيْنَ ٱلْبَنَاتِ. | 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.
| كَٱلتُّفَّاحِ بَيْنَ شَجَرِ ٱلْوَعْرِ كَذَلِكَ حَبِيبِي بَيْنَ ٱلْبَنِينَ. تَحْتَ ظِلِّهِ ٱشْتَهَيْتُ أَنْ أَجْلِسَ، وَثَمَرَتُهُ حُلْوَةٌ لِحَلْقِي. | ٣ |
4 He brought me to the banqueting-house, And his banner over me was love.
| أَدْخَلَنِي إِلَى بَيْتِ ٱلْخَمْرِ، وَعَلَمُهُ فَوْقِي مَحَبَّةٌ. | ٤ |
5 Stay ye me with raisins, refresh me with apples; For I am sick from love.
| أَسْنِدُونِي بِأَقْرَاصِ ٱلزَّبِيبِ. أَنْعِشُونِي بِٱلتُّفَّاحِ، فَإِنِّي مَرِيضَةٌ حُبًّا. | ٥ |
6 His left hand [is] under my head, And his right hand doth embrace 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 [my] love, Until he please.
| أُحَلِّفُكُنَّ يَا بَنَاتِ أُورُشَلِيمَ بِٱلظِّبَاءِ وَبِأَيَائِلِ ٱلْحُقُولِ، أَلَّا تُيَقِّظْنَ وَلَا تُنَبِّهْنَ ٱلْحَبِيبَ حَتَّى يَشَاءَ. | ٧ |
8 The voice of my beloved! behold, he cometh, Leaping upon the mountains, Skipping upon the hills.
| صَوْتُ حَبِيبِي. هُوَذَا آتٍ طَافِرًا عَلَى ٱلْجِبَالِ، قَافِزًا عَلَى ٱلتِّلَالِ. | ٨ |
9 My beloved is like a roe or a young hart: Behold, he standeth behind our wall; He looketh in at the windows; He glanceth through the lattice.
| حَبِيبِي هُوَ شَبِيهٌ بِٱلظَّبْيِ أَوْ بِغُفْرِ ٱلْأَيَائِلِ. هُوَذَا وَاقِفٌ وَرَاءَ حَائِطِنَا، يَتَطَلَّعُ مِنَ ٱلْكُوَى، يُوَصْوِصُ مِنَ ٱلشَّبَابِيكِ. | ٩ |
10 My beloved spake, and said unto me, Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.
| أَجَابَ حَبِيبِي وَقَالَ لِي: «قُومِي يَا حَبِيبَتِي، يَاجَمِيلَتِي وَتَعَالَيْ. | ١٠ |
11 For, lo, the winter is past; The rain is over and gone;
| لِأَنَّ ٱلشِّتَاءَ قَدْ مَضَى، وَٱلْمَطَرَ مَرَّ وَزَالَ. | ١١ |
12 The flowers appear on the earth; The time of the singing [of birds] is come, And the voice of the turtle-dove is heard in our land;
| ٱلزُّهُورُ ظَهَرَتْ فِي ٱلْأَرْضِ. بَلَغَ أَوَانُ ٱلْقَضْبِ، وَصَوْتُ ٱلْيَمَامَةِ سُمِعَ فِي أَرْضِنَا. | ١٢ |
13 The fig-tree ripeneth her green figs, And the vines are in blossom; They give forth their fragrance. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.
| ٱلتِّينَةُ أَخْرَجَتْ فِجَّهَا، وَقُعَالُ ٱلْكُرُومِ تُفِيحُ رَائِحَتَهَا. قُومِي يَا حَبِيبَتِي، يَا جَمِيلَتِي وَتَعَالَيْ. | ١٣ |
14 O my dove, that art 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.
| يَا حَمَامَتِي فِي مَحَاجِئِ ٱلصَّخْرِ، فِي سِتْرِ ٱلْمَعَاقِلِ، أَرِينِي وَجْهَكِ، أَسْمِعِينِي صَوْتَكِ، لِأَنَّ صَوْتَكِ لَطِيفٌ وَوَجْهَكِ جَمِيلٌ. | ١٤ |
15 Take us the foxes, the little foxes, That spoil the vineyards; For our vineyards are in blossom.
| خُذُوا لَنَا ٱلثَّعَالِبَ، ٱلثَّعَالِبَ ٱلصِّغَارَ ٱلْمُفْسِدَةَ ٱلْكُرُومِ، لِأَنَّ كُرُومَنَا قَدْ أَقْعَلَتْ. | ١٥ |
16 My beloved is mine, and I am his: He feedeth [his flock] among the lilies.
| حَبِيبِي لِي وَأَنَا لَهُ. ٱلرَّاعِي بَيْنَ ٱلسَّوْسَنِ. | 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 يَفِيحَ ٱلنَّهَارُ وَتَنْهَزِمَ ٱلظِّلَالُ، ٱرْجِعْ وَأَشْبِهْ يَا حَبِيبِي ٱلظَّبْيَ أَوْ غُفْرَ ٱلْأَيَائِلِ عَلَى ٱلْجِبَالِ ٱلْمُشَعَّبَةِ. | ١٧ |
