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.
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 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.
Dentes tui sicut greges tonsarum quæ ascenderunt de lavacro; omnes gemellis fœtibus, et sterilis non est inter eas.
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.
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 like the tower of David built for an armory, where on there hang a thousand bucklers, all shields of mighty men.
Sicut turris David collum tuum, quæ ædificata est cum propugnaculis; mille clypei pendent ex ea, omnis armatura fortium.
5 Your two breasts are like two young roes that are twins, which feed among the lilies.
Duo ubera tua sicut duo hinnuli, capreæ gemelli, qui pascuntur in liliis.
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.
Donec aspiret dies, et inclinentur umbræ, vadam ad montem myrrhæ, et ad collem thuris.
7 You are all fair, my love; there is no spot in you.
Tota pulchra es, amica mea, et macula non est in te.
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.
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 ravished my heart, my sister, my spouse; you have ravished my heart with one of your eyes, with one chain of your neck.
Vulnerasti cor meum, soror mea, sponsa; vulnerasti cor meum in uno oculorum tuorum, et in uno crine colli tui.
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!
Quam pulchræ sunt mammæ tuæ, soror mea sponsa! pulchriora sunt ubera tua vino, et odor unguentorum tuorum super omnia aromata.
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.
Favus distillans labia tua, sponsa; mel et lac sub lingua tua: et odor vestimentorum tuorum sicut odor thuris.
12 A garden enclosed is my sister, my spouse; a spring shut up, a fountain sealed.
Hortus conclusus soror mea, sponsa, hortus conclusus, fons signatus.
13 Your plants are an orchard of pomegranates, with pleasant fruits; camphire, with spikenard,
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 A fountain of gardens, a well of living waters, and streams from Lebanon.
Fons hortorum, puteus aquarum viventium, quæ fluunt impetu de Libano.
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.
Surge, aquilo, et veni, auster: perfla hortum meum, et fluant aromata illius. Veniat dilectus meus in hortum suum, et comedat fructum pomorum suorum.
