Song of Solomon 7
1 How beautiful are thy footsteps in sandals, O prince's daughter! The roundings of thy thighs are like jewels, The work of the hands of an artist.
Chorus Quam pulchri sunt gressus tui in calceamentis, filia principis! Juncturæ femorum tuorum sicut monilia quæ fabricata sunt manu artificis.
2 Thy navel is a round goblet, [which] wanteth not mixed wine; Thy belly a heap of wheat, set about with lilies;
Umbilicus tuus crater tornatilis, numquam indigens poculis. Venter tuus sicut acervus tritici vallatus liliis.
3 Thy two breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle;
Duo ubera tua sicut duo hinnuli, gemelli capreæ.
4 Thy neck is as a tower of ivory; Thine eyes, [like] the pools in Heshbon, By the gate of Bath-rabbim; Thy nose like the tower of Lebanon, Which looketh toward Damascus;
Collum tuum sicut turris eburnea; oculi tui sicut piscinæ in Hesebon quæ sunt in porta filiæ multitudinis. Nasus tuus sicut turris Libani, quæ respicit contra Damascum.
5 Thy head upon thee is like Carmel, And the locks of thy head like purple; The king is fettered by [thy] ringlets!
Caput tuum ut Carmelus; et comæ capitis tui sicut purpura regis vincta canalibus.
6 How fair and how pleasant art thou, [my] love, in delights!
Sponsus Quam pulchra es, et quam decora, carissima, in deliciis!
7 This thy stature is like to a palm-tree, And thy breasts to grape clusters.
Statura tua assimilata est palmæ, et ubera tua botris.
8 I said, I will go up to the palm-tree, I will take hold of the boughs thereof; And thy breasts shall indeed be like clusters of the vine, And the fragrance of thy nose like apples,
Dixi: Ascendam in palmam, et apprehendam fructus ejus; et erunt ubera tua sicut botri vineæ, et odor oris tui sicut malorum.
9 And the roof of thy mouth like the best wine, ...That goeth down smoothly for my beloved, And stealeth over the lips of them that are asleep.
Guttur tuum sicut vinum optimum, dignum dilecto meo ad potandum, labiisque et dentibus illius ad ruminandum.
10 I am my beloved's, And his desire is toward me.
Sponsa Ego dilecto meo, et ad me conversio ejus.
11 — Come, my beloved, let us go forth into the fields; Let us lodge in the villages.
Veni, dilecte mi, egrediamur in agrum, commoremur in villis.
12 We will go up early to the vineyards, We will see if the vine hath budded, [If] the blossom is opening, And the pomegranates are in bloom: There will I give thee my loves.
Mane surgamus ad vineas: videamus si floruit vinea, si flores fructus parturiunt, si floruerunt mala punica; ibi dabo tibi ubera mea.
13 The mandrakes yield fragrance; And at our gates are all choice fruits, new and old: I have laid them up for thee, my beloved.
Mandragoræ dederunt odorem in portis nostris omnia poma: nova et vetera, dilecte mi, servavi tibi.]
