Song of Solomon 4
1 See, you are fair, my love, you are fair; you have the eyes of a dove; your hair is as a flock of goats, which take their rest on the side of Gilead.
Quam pulchra es amica mea, quam pulchra es! Oculi tui columbarum, absque eo, quod intrinsecus latet. Capilli tui sicut greges caprarum, quæ ascenderunt de monte Galaad.
2 Your teeth are like a flock of sheep whose wool is newly cut, which come up from the washing; every one has two lambs, and there is not one without young.
Dentes tui sicut greges tonsarum, quæ ascenderunt de lavacro, omnes gemellis fœtibus, et sterilis non est inter eas.
3 Your red lips are like a bright thread, and your mouth is fair of form; the sides of your head are like pomegranate fruit under your veil.
Sicut vitta coccinea, labia tua: et eloquium tuum, dulce. Sicut fragmen mali punici, ita genæ tuæ, absque eo, quod intrinsecus latet.
4 Your neck is like the tower of David made for a store-house of arms, in which a thousand breastplates are hanging, breastplates for fighting-men.
Sicut turris David collum tuum, quæ ædificata est cum propugnaculis: mille clypei pendant ex ea, omnis armatura fortium.
5 Your two breasts are like two young roes of the same birth, which take their food among the lilies.
Duo ubera tua, sicut duo hinnuli capreæ gemelli, qui pascuntur in liliis,
6 Till the evening comes, and the sky slowly becomes dark, I will go to the mountain of myrrh, and to the hill of frankincense.
donec aspiret dies, et inclinentur umbræ, vadam ad montem myrrhæ, et ad collem thuris.
7 You are all fair, my love; there is no mark on you.
Tota pulchra es amica mea, et macula non est in te.
8 Come with me from Lebanon, my bride, with me from Lebanon; see from the top of Amana, from the top of Senir and Hermon, from the places 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 taken away my heart, my sister, my bride; you have taken away my heart, with one look you have taken it, with one chain of your neck!
Vulnerasti cor meum soror mea sponsa, vulnerasti cor meum in uno oculorum tuorum, et in uno crine colli tui.
10 How fair is your love, my sister! How much better is your love than wine, and the smell of your oils than any perfume!
Quam pulchræ sunt mammæ tuæ soror mea sponsa! pulchriora sunt ubera tua vino, et odor unguentorum tuorum super omnia aromata.
11 Your lips are dropping honey; honey and milk are under your tongue; and the smell of your clothing is like the smell of Lebanon.
Favus distillans labia tua sponsa, mel et lac sub lingua tua: et odor vestimentorum tuorum sicut odor thuris.
12 A garden walled-in is my sister, my bride; a garden shut up, a spring of water stopped.
Hortus conclusus soror mea sponsa, hortus conclusus, fons signatus.
13 The produce of the garden is pomegranates; with all the best fruits, henna and spikenard,
Emissiones tuæ paradisus malorum punicorum cum pomorum fructibus. Cypri cum nardo,
14 Spikenard and safron; calamus and cinnamon, with all trees of frankincense; myrrh and aloes, with all the chief spices.
nardus et crocus, fistula et cinnamomum cum universis lignis Libani, myrrha et aloe cum omnibus primis unguentis.
15 You are a fountain of gardens, a spring of living waters, and flowing waters from Lebanon.
Fons hortorum: puteus aquarum viventium, quæ fluunt impetu de Libano.
16 Be awake, O north wind; and come, O south, blowing on my garden, so that its spices may come out. Let my loved one come into his garden, and take of his good fruits.
Surge Aquilo, et veni Auster, perfla hortum meum, et fluant aromata illius. Veniat dilectus meus in hortum suum, et comedat fructum pomorum suorum.
