Song of Solomon 4
1 Behold, you are fair, my love; behold, you are fair; you have doves’ eyes within your locks: your hair is as a flock of goats, that appear from mount Gilead.
Mi frendesse, thou art ful fair; thin iyen ben of culueris, with outen that that is hid with ynne; thin heeris ben as the flockis of geete, that stieden fro the hil of Galaad.
2 Your teeth are like a flock of sheep that are even shorn, which came up from the washing; whereof every one bear twins, and none is barren among them.
Thi teeth ben as the flockis of clippid sheep, that stieden fro waischyng; alle ben with double lambren, and no bareyn is among tho.
3 Your lips are like a thread of scarlet, and your speech is comely: your temples are like a piece of a pomegranate within your locks.
Thi lippis ben as a reed lace, and thi speche is swete; as the relif of an appil of Punyk, so ben thi chekis, with outen that, that is hid with ynne.
4 Your neck is like the tower of David built for an armory, where on there hang a thousand bucklers, all shields of mighty men.
Thi necke is as the tour of Dauid, which is bildid with strengthis maad bifore for defense; a thousynde scheldis hangen on it, al armure of stronge men.
5 Your two breasts are like two young roes that are twins, which feed among the lilies.
Thi twei tetis ben as twey kidis, twynnes of a capret, that ben fed in lilies,
6 Until the day break, and the shadows flee away, I will get me to the mountain of myrrh, and to the hill of frankincense.
til the dai sprynge, and shadewis ben bowid doun. Y schal go to the mounteyn of myrre, and to the litil hil of encense.
7 You are all fair, my love; there is no spot in you.
My frendesse, thou art al faire, and no wem is in thee.
8 Come with me from Lebanon, my spouse, with me from Lebanon: look from the top of Amana, from the top of Shenir and Hermon, from the lions’ dens, from the mountains of the leopards.
My spousesse, come thou fro the Liban; come thou fro the Liban, come thou; thou schalt be corowned fro the heed of Amana, fro the cop of Sanyr and Hermon, fro the dennys of liouns, fro the hillis of pardis.
9 You have ravished my heart, my sister, my spouse; you have ravished my heart with one of your eyes, with one chain of your neck.
My sister spousesse, thou hast woundid myn herte; thou hast woundid myn herte, in oon of thin iyen, and in oon heer of thi necke.
10 How fair is your love, my sister, my spouse! how much better is your love than wine! and the smell of your ointments than all spices!
My sistir spousesse, thi tetis ben ful faire; thi tetis ben feirere than wyn, and the odour of thi clothis is aboue alle swete smellynge oynementis.
11 Your lips, O my spouse, drop as the honeycomb: honey and milk are under your tongue; and the smell of your garments is like the smell of Lebanon.
Spousesse, thi lippis ben an hony coomb droppynge; hony and mylk ben vndur thi tunge, and the odour of thi clothis is as the odour of encence.
12 A garden enclosed is my sister, my spouse; a spring shut up, a fountain sealed.
Mi sister spousesse, a gardyn closid togidere; a gardyn closid togidere, a welle aseelid.
13 Your plants are an orchard of pomegranates, with pleasant fruits; camphire, with spikenard,
Thi sendingis out ben paradis of applis of Punyk, with the fruytis of applis, cipre trees, with narde;
14 Spikenard and saffron; calamus and cinnamon, with all trees of frankincense; myrrh and aloes, with all the chief spices:
narde, and saffrun, an erbe clepid fistula, and canel, with alle trees of the Liban, myrre, and aloes, with alle the beste oynementis.
15 A fountain of gardens, a well of living waters, and streams from Lebanon.
A welle of gardyns, a pit of wallynge watris, that flowen with fersnesse fro the Liban.
16 Awake, O north wind; and come, you south; blow on my garden, that the spices thereof may flow out. Let my beloved come into his garden, and eat his pleasant fruits.
Rise thou north wynd, and come thou, south wynd; blowe thou thorouy my gardyn, and the swete smellynge oynementis therof schulen flete.
