< Song of Solomon 4 >
1 How beautiful you look, my darling, how beautiful! Your eyes are like doves behind your veil. Your hair flows down like a flock of goats descending Mount Gilead.
Behold, thou art faire, my loue: behold, thou art faire: thine eyes are like the doues: among thy lockes thine heare is like the flocke of goates, which looke downe from the mountaine of Gilead.
2 Your teeth are as white as a flock of sheep that are just shorn and washed. None of them are missing—they are all perfectly matched.
Thy teeth are like a flocke of sheepe in good order, which go vp from the washing: which euery one bring out twinnes, and none is barren among them.
3 Your lips are as red as scarlet thread. Your mouth is gorgeous. Your cheeks are the blushing color of pomegranates behind your veil.
Thy lippes are like a threede of scarlet, and thy talke is comely: thy temples are within thy lockes as a piece of a pomegranate.
4 Your neck is as tall and shapely as David's tower, with your necklaces like the hanging shields of a thousand warriors.
Thy necke is as the tower of Dauid builte for defence: a thousand shieldes hang therein, and all the targates of the strong men.
5 Your breasts are like two fawns, two gazelles feeding among the lilies.
Thy two breastes are as two young roes that are twinnes, feeding among the lilies.
6 Before the morning breezes blow and the shadows disappear, I must hurry to those mountains of myrrh and frankincense.
Vntill the day breake, and the shadowes flie away, I wil go into the mountaine of myrrhe and to the mountaine of incense.
7 You are incredibly beautiful, my darling—you are absolutely flawless!
Thou art all faire, my loue, and there is no spot in thee.
8 Come with me from Lebanon, my bride, come from Lebanon. Come down from the peak of Amana, from the peaks of Senir and Hermon, from the lions' dens, from the mountains where leopards live.
Come with me from Lebanon, my spouse, euen with me from Lebanon, and looke from the toppe of Amanah, from the toppe of Shenir and Hermon, from the dennes of the lyons, and from the mountaines of the leopards.
9 You have stolen my heart, my sister, my bride. With just one look you stole my heart, with just one sparkle from a single one of your necklaces.
My sister, my spouse, thou hast wounded mine heart: thou hast wounded mine heart with one of thine eyes, and with a chaine of thy necke.
10 How wonderful is your love, my sister, my bride! Your love is sweeter than wine. The way you smell from your perfumed oils is better than any spice.
My sister, my spouse, how faire is thy loue? howe much better is thy loue then wine? and the sauour of thine oyntments then all spices?
11 Nectar drips from your lips; milk and honey are under your tongue. The smell of your clothes is like the fragrance of Lebanon.
Thy lippes, my spouse, droppe as honie combes: honie and milke are vnder thy tongue, and the sauoure of thy garments is as the sauoure of Lebanon.
12 My sister, my bride, is a locked garden, a spring of water that is closed, a fountain that is sealed.
My sister my spouse is as a garden inclosed, as a spring shut vp, and a fountaine sealed vp.
13 Your channel is a paradise of pomegranates, full of the best fruits, with henna and nard,
Thy plantes are as an orchard of pomegranates with sweete fruites, as camphire, spikenarde,
14 nard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon, with all kinds of trees producing frankincense, myrrh, aloes, and the finest spices.
Euen spikenarde, and saffran, calamus, and cynamon with all the trees of incense, myrrhe and aloes, with all the chiefe spices.
15 You are a garden fountain, a well of living water, a flowing stream from Lebanon.
O fountaine of the gardens, O well of liuing waters, and the springs of Lebanon.
16 Wake up, north wind! Come, south wind! Blow on my garden so its scent may be carried on the breeze. Let my love come to his garden and eat its best fruits.
Arise, O North, and come O South, and blowe on my garden that the spices thereof may flow out: let my welbeloued come to his garden, and eate his pleasant fruite.