Song of Solomon 4
1 How beautiful art thou, my love, how beautiful art thou! thy eyes are doves’ eyes, besides what is hid within. Thy hair is as flocks of goats, which Come up from mount Galaad.
Look, you are beautiful, my love. Look, you are beautiful. Your eyes are doves behind your veil. Your hair is as a flock of goats, that descend from Mount Gilead.
2 Thy teeth as flocks of sheep, that are shorn which come up from the washing, all with twins, and there is none barren among them.
Your teeth are like a newly shorn flock, which have come up from the washing, where every one of them has twins. None is bereaved among them.
3 Thy lips are as a scarlet lace: and thy speech sweet. Thy cheeks are as a piece of a pomegranate, besides that which lieth hid within.
Your lips are like scarlet thread. Your mouth is lovely. Your temples are like a piece of a pomegranate behind your veil.
4 Thy neck, is as the tower of David, which is built with bulwarks: a thousand bucklers hang upon it, all the armour of valiant men.
Your neck is like David's tower built for an armory, whereon a thousand shields hang, all the shields of the mighty men.
5 Thy two breasts like two young roes that are twins, which feed among the lilies.
Your two breasts are like two fawns that are twins of a gazelle, which feed among the lilies.
6 Till the day break, and the shadows retire, I will go to the mountain of myrrh, and to the hill of frankincense.
Until the day is cool, and the shadows flee away, I will go to the mountain of myrrh, to the hill of frankincense.
7 Thou art all fair, O my love, and there is not a spot in thee.
You are all beautiful, my love. There is no spot in you.
8 Come from Libanus, my spouse, come from Libanus, come: thou shalt be crowned from the top of Amana, from the top of Sanir and Hermon, from the dens of the lions, from the mountains of the leopards.
Come with me from Lebanon, my bride, with me from Lebanon. Look from the top of Amana, from the top of Senir and Hermon, from the lions' dens, from the mountains of the leopards.
9 Thou hast wounded my heart, my sister, my spouse, thou hast wounded my heart with one of thy eyes, and with one hair of thy neck.
You have ravished my heart, my sister, my bride. You have ravished my heart with one of your eyes, with one chain of your neck.
10 How beautiful are thy breasts, my sister, my spouse! thy breasts are more beautiful than wine, and the sweet smell of thy ointments above all aromatical spices.
How beautiful is your love, my sister, my bride. How much better is your love than wine. The fragrance of your perfumes than all manner of spices.
11 Thy lips, my spouse, are as a dropping honeycomb, honey and milk are under thy tongue; and the smell of thy garments, as the smell of frankincense.
Your lips, my bride, drip like the honeycomb. Honey and milk are under your tongue. The smell of your garments is like the smell of Lebanon.
12 My sister, my spouse, is a garden enclosed, a garden enclosed, a fountain sealed up.
A locked up garden is my sister, my bride; a locked up spring, a sealed fountain.
13 Thy plants are a paradise of pomegranates with the fruits of the orchard. Cypress with spikenard.
Your shoots are an orchard of pomegranates, with precious fruits: henna with spikenard plants,
14 Spikenard and saffron, sweet cane and cinnamon, with all the trees of Libanus, myrrh and aloes with all the chief perfumes.
spikenard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon, with every kind of incense tree; myrrh and aloes, with all the best spices,
15 The fountain of gardens: the well of living waters, which run with a strong stream from Libanus.
a fountain of gardens, a well of living waters, flowing streams from Lebanon.
16 Arise, O north wind, and come, O south wind, blow through my garden, and let the aromatical spices thereof flow.
Awake, north wind; and come, you south. Blow on my garden, that its spices may flow out. Let my beloved come into his garden, and taste his precious fruits.
