Song of Songs 4
1 Behold, you are fair, my companion; behold, you are fair; your eyes are doves, beside your veil: your hair is as flocks of goats, that have appeared from Galaad.
Mi frendesse, thou art ful fair; thin iyen ben of culueris, with outen that that is hid with ynne; thin heeris ben as the flockis of geete, that stieden fro the hil of Galaad.
2 Your teeth are as flocks of shorn [sheep], that have gone up from the washing; all of them bearing twins, and there is not a barren one amongst them.
Thi teeth ben as the flockis of clippid sheep, that stieden fro waischyng; alle ben with double lambren, and no bareyn is among tho.
3 Your lips are as a thread of scarlet, and your speech is comely: like the rind of a pomegranate is your cheek without your veil.
Thi lippis ben as a reed lace, and thi speche is swete; as the relif of an appil of Punyk, so ben thi chekis, with outen that, that is hid with ynne.
4 Your neck is as the tower of David, that was built for an armoury: a thousand shields hang upon it, [and] all darts of mighty men.
Thi necke is as the tour of Dauid, which is bildid with strengthis maad bifore for defense; a thousynde scheldis hangen on it, al armure of stronge men.
5 Your two breasts are as two twin fawns, that feed amongst the lilies.
Thi twei tetis ben as twey kidis, twynnes of a capret, that ben fed in lilies,
6 Until the day dawn, and the shadows depart, I will betake me to the mountain of myrrh, and to the hill of frankincense.
til the dai sprynge, and shadewis ben bowid doun. Y schal go to the mounteyn of myrre, and to the litil hil of encense.
7 You are all fair, my companion, and there is no spot in you.
My frendesse, thou art al faire, and no wem is in thee.
8 Come from Libanus, [my] bride, come from Libanus: you shall come and pass from the top of Faith, from the top of Sanir and Hermon, from the lions' dens, from the mountains of the leopards.
My spousesse, come thou fro the Liban; come thou fro the Liban, come thou; thou schalt be corowned fro the heed of Amana, fro the cop of Sanyr and Hermon, fro the dennys of liouns, fro the hillis of pardis.
9 My sister, [my] spouse, you have ravished my heart; you have ravished my heart with one of your eyes, with one chain of your neck.
My sister spousesse, thou hast woundid myn herte; thou hast woundid myn herte, in oon of thin iyen, and in oon heer of thi necke.
10 How beautiful are your breasts, my sister, my spouse! how much more beautiful are your breasts than wine, and the smell of your garments than all spices!
My sistir spousesse, thi tetis ben ful faire; thi tetis ben feirere than wyn, and the odour of thi clothis is aboue alle swete smellynge oynementis.
11 Your lips drop honeycomb, my spouse: honey and milk are under your tongue; and the smell of your garments is as the smell of Libanus.
Spousesse, thi lippis ben an hony coomb droppynge; hony and mylk ben vndur thi tunge, and the odour of thi clothis is as the odour of encence.
12 My sister, [my] spouse is a garden enclosed; a garden enclosed, a fountain sealed.
Mi sister spousesse, a gardyn closid togidere; a gardyn closid togidere, a welle aseelid.
13 Your shoots are a garden of pomegranates, with the fruit of choice berries; camphor, with spikenard:
Thi sendingis out ben paradis of applis of Punyk, with the fruytis of applis, cipre trees, with narde;
14 spikenard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon; with all woods of Libanus, myrrh, aloes, with all chief spices:
narde, and saffrun, an erbe clepid fistula, and canel, with alle trees of the Liban, myrre, and aloes, with alle the beste oynementis.
15 a fountain of a garden, and a well of water springing and gurgling from Libanus.
A welle of gardyns, a pit of wallynge watris, that flowen with fersnesse fro the Liban.
16 Awake, O north wind; and come, O south; and blow through my garden, and let my spices flow out.
Rise thou north wynd, and come thou, south wynd; blowe thou thorouy my gardyn, and the swete smellynge oynementis therof schulen flete.
