< Song of Solomon 4 >
1 How beautiful you are, my darling— how very beautiful! Your eyes are like doves behind your veil. Your hair is like a flock of goats streaming down Mount Gilead.
Quam pulchra es amica mea, quam pulchra es! Oculi tui columbarum, absque eo, quod intrinsecus latet. Capilli tui sicut greges caprarum, quae ascenderunt de monte Galaad.
2 Your teeth are like a flock of newly shorn sheep coming up from the washing; each has its twin, and not one of them is lost.
Dentes tui sicut greges tonsarum, quae ascenderunt de lavacro, omnes gemellis foetibus, et sterilis non est inter eas.
3 Your lips are like a scarlet ribbon, and your mouth is lovely. Your brow behind your veil is like a slice of pomegranate.
Sicut vitta coccinea, labia tua: et eloquium tuum, dulce. Sicut fragmen mali punici, ita genae tuae, absque eo, quod intrinsecus latet.
4 Your neck is like the tower of David, built with rows of stones; on it hang a thousand shields, all of them shields of warriors.
Sicut turris David collum tuum, quae aedificata est cum propugnaculis: mille clypei pendent ex ea, omnis armatura fortium.
5 Your breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle grazing among the lilies.
Duo ubera tua, sicut duo hinnuli capreae gemelli, qui pascuntur in liliis,
6 Before the day breaks and the shadows flee, I will make my way to the mountain of myrrh and to the hill of frankincense.
donec aspiret dies, et inclinentur umbrae, vadam ad montem myrrhae, et ad collem thuris.
7 You are altogether beautiful, my darling; in you there is no flaw.
Tota pulchra es amica mea, et macula non est in te.
8 Come with me from Lebanon, my bride, come with me from Lebanon! Descend from the peak of Amana, from the summits of Senir and Hermon, from the dens of the lions, from the mountains of the leopards.
Veni de Libano sponsa mea, veni de Libano, veni: coronaberis de capite Amana, de vertice Sanir et Hermon, de cubilibus leonum, de montibus pardorum.
9 You have captured my heart, my sister, my bride; you have stolen my heart with one glance of your eyes, with one jewel of your neck.
Vulnerasti cor meum soror mea sponsa, vulnerasti cor meum in uno oculorum tuorum, et in uno crine colli tui.
10 How delightful is your love, my sister, my bride! Your love is much better than wine, and the fragrance of your perfume than all spices.
Quam pulchrae sunt mammae tuae soror mea sponsa! pulchriora sunt ubera tua vino, et odor unguentorum tuorum super omnia aromata.
11 Your lips, my bride, drip sweetness like the honeycomb; honey and milk are under your tongue, and the fragrance of your garments is like the aroma of Lebanon.
Favus distillans labia tua sponsa, mel et lac sub lingua tua: et odor vestimentorum tuorum sicut odor thuris.
12 My sister, my bride, you are a garden locked up, a spring enclosed, a fountain sealed.
Hortus conclusus soror mea sponsa, hortus conclusus, fons signatus.
13 Your branches are an orchard of pomegranates with the choicest of fruits, with henna and nard,
Emissiones tuae paradisus malorum punicorum cum pomorum fructibus. Cypri cum nardo,
14 with nard and saffron, with calamus and cinnamon, with every kind of frankincense tree, with myrrh and aloes, with all the finest spices.
nardus et crocus, fistula et cinnamomum cum universis lignis Libani, myrrha et aloe cum omnibus primis unguentis.
15 You are a garden spring, a well of fresh water flowing down from Lebanon.
Fons hortorum: puteus aquarum viventium, quae fluunt impetu de Libano.
16 Awake, O north wind, and come, O south wind. Breathe on my garden and spread the fragrance of its spices. Let my beloved come into his garden and taste its choicest fruits.
Surge Aquilo, et veni Auster, perfla hortum meum, et fluant aromata illius. Veniat dilectus meus in hortum suum, et comedat fructum pomorum suorum.