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.
quam pulchri sunt gressus tui in calciamentis filia principis iunctura feminum tuorum sicut monilia quae 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 hinuli gemelli capreae
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 piscinae in Esebon quae sunt in porta filiae multitudinis nasus tuus sicut turris Libani quae 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 comae capitis tui sicut purpura regis vincta canalibus
6 How fair and how pleasant art thou, [my] love, in delights!
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 adsimilata est palmae 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 adprehendam fructus eius et erunt ubera tua sicut botri vineae 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 ruminandum
10 I am my beloved's, And his desire is toward me.
ego dilecto meo et ad me conversio eius
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.
mandragorae dederunt odorem in portis nostris omnia poma nova et vetera dilecte mi servavi tibi
