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.
Oh, you are beautiful, my love; you are beautiful. Your eyes are doves behind your veil. Your hair is like a flock of goats going down from 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 like a flock of newly shorn ewes, coming up from the washing place. Each one has a twin, and none among them is bereaved.
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 like a thread of scarlet; your mouth is lovely. Your cheeks are like pomegranate halves 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 like the tower of David built in rows of stone, with a thousand shields hanging on it, all the shields of soldiers.
5 Thy two breastes are as two young roes that are twinnes, feeding among the lilies.
Your two breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle, grazing 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.
Until the dawn arrives and the shadows flee away, I will go to the mountain of myrrh and to the hill of frankincense.
7 Thou art all faire, my loue, and there is no spot in thee.
You are beautiful in every way, my love and there is no blemish in you.
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 with me from Lebanon; come from the top of Amana, from the top of Senir and Hermon, from lions' dens, from mountain dens of leopards.
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; you have stolen my heart, with just one look at me, with just one jewel of your necklace.
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 beautiful is your love, my sister, my bride! How much better is your love than wine, and the fragrance of your perfume 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.
Your lips, my bride, drip honey; honey and milk are under your tongue; the fragrance of your garments 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 garden locked up, a garden locked up, a spring that is sealed.
13 Thy plantes are as an orchard of pomegranates with sweete fruites, as camphire, spikenarde,
Your branches are a grove of pomegranate trees with choice fruits, and of henna and nard plants,
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 spices, myrrh and aloes with all the finest spices.
15 O fountaine of the gardens, O well of liuing waters, and the springs of Lebanon.
You are a garden spring, a well of fresh water, streams flowing down 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.
Awake, north wind; come, south wind; blow on my garden so that its spices may give off their fragrance. May my beloved come into his garden and eat some of its choice fruit.
