Song of Solomon 4
1 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.
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.
2 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.
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.
3 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.
Your lips are as red as scarlet thread. Your mouth is gorgeous. Your cheeks are the blushing color of pomegranates behind your veil.
4 Thy necke is as the tower of Dauid builte for defence: a thousand shieldes hang therein, and all the targates of the strong men.
Your neck is as tall and shapely as David's tower, with your necklaces like the hanging shields of a thousand warriors.
5 Thy two breastes are as two young roes that are twinnes, feeding among the lilies.
Your breasts are like two fawns, two gazelles feeding among the lilies.
6 Vntill the day breake, and the shadowes flie away, I wil go into the mountaine of myrrhe and to the mountaine of incense.
Before the morning breezes blow and the shadows disappear, I must hurry to those mountains of myrrh and frankincense.
7 Thou art all faire, my loue, and there is no spot in thee.
You are incredibly beautiful, my darling—you are absolutely flawless!
8 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.
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.
9 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.
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.
10 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?
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.
11 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.
Nectar drips from your lips; milk and honey are under your tongue. The smell of your clothes is like the fragrance of Lebanon.
12 My sister my spouse is as a garden inclosed, as a spring shut vp, and a fountaine sealed vp.
My sister, my bride, is a locked garden, a spring of water that is closed, a fountain that is sealed.
13 Thy plantes are as an orchard of pomegranates with sweete fruites, as camphire, spikenarde,
Your channel is a paradise of pomegranates, full of the best fruits, with henna and nard,
14 Euen spikenarde, and saffran, calamus, and cynamon with all the trees of incense, myrrhe and aloes, with all the chiefe spices.
nard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon, with all kinds of trees producing frankincense, myrrh, aloes, and the finest spices.
15 O fountaine of the gardens, O well of liuing waters, and the springs of Lebanon.
You are a garden fountain, a well of living water, a flowing stream from Lebanon.
16 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.
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.
