Song of Solomon 4
1 Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair; thine eyes are as doves behind thy veil; thy hair is as a flock of goats, that trail down from 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 Thy teeth are like a flock of ewes all shaped alike, which are come up from the washing; whereof all are paired, and none faileth among them.
Dentes tui sicut greges tonsarum quæ ascenderunt de lavacro; omnes gemellis fœtibus, et sterilis non est inter eas.
3 Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet, and thy mouth is comely; thy temples are like a pomegranate split open behind thy veil.
Sicut vitta coccinea labia tua, et eloquium tuum dulce. Sicut fragmen mali punici, ita genæ tuæ, absque eo quod intrinsecus latet.
4 Thy neck is like the tower of David builded with turrets, whereon there hang a thousand shields, all the armour of the mighty men.
Sicut turris David collum tuum, quæ ædificata est cum propugnaculis; mille clypei pendent ex ea, omnis armatura fortium.
5 Thy two breasts are like two fawns that are twins of a gazelle, which feed among the lilies.
Duo ubera tua sicut duo hinnuli, capreæ gemelli, qui pascuntur in liliis.
6 Until the day breathe, and the shadows flee away, I will get me to the mountain of myrrh, and to the hill of frankincense.
Donec aspiret dies, et inclinentur umbræ, vadam ad montem myrrhæ, et ad collem thuris.
7 Thou art all fair, my love; and there is no spot in thee.
Tota pulchra es, amica mea, et macula non est in te.
8 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.
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 Thou hast ravished my heart, my sister, my bride; thou hast ravished my heart with one of thine eyes, with one bead of thy necklace.
Vulnerasti cor meum, soror mea, sponsa; vulnerasti cor meum in uno oculorum tuorum, et in uno crine colli tui.
10 How fair is thy love, my sister, my bride! how much better is thy love than wine! and the smell of thine ointments than all manner of spices!
Quam pulchræ sunt mammæ tuæ, soror mea sponsa! pulchriora sunt ubera tua vino, et odor unguentorum tuorum super omnia aromata.
11 Thy lips, O my bride, drop honey — honey and milk are under thy tongue; and the smell of thy garments is like the smell of Lebanon.
Favus distillans labia tua, sponsa; mel et lac sub lingua tua: et odor vestimentorum tuorum sicut odor thuris.
12 A garden shut up is my sister, my bride; a spring shut up, a fountain sealed.
Hortus conclusus soror mea, sponsa, hortus conclusus, fons signatus.
13 Thy shoots are a park of pomegranates, with precious fruits; henna with spikenard plants,
Emissiones tuæ paradisus malorum punicorum, cum pomorum fructibus, cypri cum nardo.
14 Spikenard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon, with all trees of frankincense; myrrh and aloes, with all the chief spices.
Nardus et crocus, fistula et cinnamomum, cum universis lignis Libani; myrrha et aloë, cum omnibus primis unguentis.
15 Thou art a fountain of gardens, a well of living waters, and flowing streams from Lebanon.
Fons hortorum, puteus aquarum viventium, quæ fluunt impetu de Libano.
16 Awake, O north wind; and come, thou south; blow upon my garden, that the spices thereof may flow out. Let my beloved come into his garden, and eat his precious fruits.
Surge, aquilo, et veni, auster: perfla hortum meum, et fluant aromata illius. Veniat dilectus meus in hortum suum, et comedat fructum pomorum suorum.
