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.
Quam pulchra es, amica mea! quam pulchra es! Oculi tui columbarum, absque eo quod intrinsecus latet. Capilli tui sicut greges caprarum quæ ascenderunt de monte Galaad.
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.
Dentes tui sicut greges tonsarum quæ ascenderunt de lavacro; omnes gemellis fœtibus, et sterilis non est inter eas.
3 Your lips are as red as scarlet thread. Your mouth is gorgeous. Your cheeks are the blushing color of pomegranates behind your veil.
Sicut vitta coccinea labia tua, et eloquium tuum dulce. Sicut fragmen mali punici, ita genæ tuæ, absque eo quod intrinsecus latet.
4 Your neck is as tall and shapely as David's tower, with your necklaces like the hanging shields of a thousand warriors.
Sicut turris David collum tuum, quæ ædificata est cum propugnaculis; mille clypei pendent ex ea, omnis armatura fortium.
5 Your breasts are like two fawns, two gazelles feeding among the lilies.
Duo ubera tua sicut duo hinnuli, capreæ gemelli, qui pascuntur in liliis.
6 Before the morning breezes blow and the shadows disappear, I must hurry to those mountains of myrrh and frankincense.
Donec aspiret dies, et inclinentur umbræ, vadam ad montem myrrhæ, et ad collem thuris.
7 You are incredibly beautiful, my darling—you are absolutely flawless!
Tota pulchra es, amica mea, et macula non est in te.
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.
Veni de Libano, sponsa mea: veni de Libano, veni, coronaberis: de capite Amana, de vertice Sanir et Hermon, de cubilibus leonum, de montibus pardorum.
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.
Vulnerasti cor meum, soror mea, sponsa; vulnerasti cor meum in uno oculorum tuorum, et in uno crine colli tui.
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.
Quam pulchræ sunt mammæ tuæ, soror mea sponsa! pulchriora sunt ubera tua vino, et odor unguentorum tuorum super omnia aromata.
11 Nectar drips from your lips; milk and honey are under your tongue. The smell of your clothes is like the fragrance of Lebanon.
Favus distillans labia tua, sponsa; mel et lac sub lingua tua: et odor vestimentorum tuorum sicut odor thuris.
12 My sister, my bride, is a locked garden, a spring of water that is closed, a fountain that is sealed.
Hortus conclusus soror mea, sponsa, hortus conclusus, fons signatus.
13 Your channel is a paradise of pomegranates, full of the best fruits, with henna and nard,
Emissiones tuæ paradisus malorum punicorum, cum pomorum fructibus, cypri cum nardo.
14 nard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon, with all kinds of trees producing frankincense, myrrh, aloes, and the finest spices.
Nardus et crocus, fistula et cinnamomum, cum universis lignis Libani; myrrha et aloë, cum omnibus primis unguentis.
15 You are a garden fountain, a well of living water, a flowing stream from Lebanon.
Fons hortorum, puteus aquarum viventium, quæ fluunt impetu de Libano.
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.
Surge, aquilo, et veni, auster: perfla hortum meum, et fluant aromata illius. Veniat dilectus meus in hortum suum, et comedat fructum pomorum suorum.
