Song of Solomon 5
1 I AM come into my garden, my sister, my spouse: I have gathered my myrrh with my spice; I have eaten my honeycomb with my honey; I have drunk my wine with my milk: eat, O friends; drink, yea, drink abundantly, O beloved.
Mi derlyng, come in to his gardyn, to ete the fruyt of hise applis. Mi sister spousesse, come thou in to my gardyn. Y have rope my myrre, with my swete smellynge spices; Y haue ete an hony combe, with myn hony; Y haue drunke my wyn, with my mylk. Frendis, ete ye, and drynke; and derewortheste frendis, be ye fillid greetli.
2 I sleep, but my heart waketh: it is the voice of my beloved that knocketh, saying, Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled: for my head is filled with dew, and my locks with the drops of the night.
Y slepe, and myn herte wakith. The vois of my derlyng knockynge; my sister, my frendesse, my culuer, my spousesse vnwemmed, opene thou to me; for myn heed is ful of dew, and myn heeris ben ful of dropis of niytis.
3 I have put off my coat; how shall I put it on? I have washed my feet; how shall I defile them?
I have vnclothid me of my coote; hou schal Y be clothid ther ynne? I haue waische my feet; hou schal Y defoule tho?
4 My beloved put in his hand by the hole of the door, and my bowels were moved for him.
Mi derlyng putte his hond bi an hoole; and my wombe tremblide at the touchyng therof.
5 I rose up to open to my beloved; and my hands dropped with myrrh, and my fingers with sweet smelling myrrh, upon the handles of the lock.
Y roos, for to opene to my derlyng; myn hondis droppiden myrre, and my fyngris weren ful of myrre moost preued.
6 I opened to my beloved; but my beloved had withdrawn himself, and was gone: my soul failed when he spake: I sought him, but I could not find him; I called him, but he gave me no answer.
Y openede the wiket of my dore to my derlyng; and he hadde bowid awei, and hadde passid. My soule was meltid, as the derlyng spak; Y souyte, and Y foond not hym; Y clepide, and he answerde not to me.
7 The watchmen that went about the city found me, they smote me, they wounded me; the keepers of the walls took away my veil from me.
Keperis that cumpassiden the citee founden me; thei smytiden me, and woundiden me; the keperis of wallis token awey my mentil.
8 I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if ye find my beloved, that ye tell him, that I am sick of love.
Ye douytris of Jerusalem, Y biseche you bi an hooli thing, if ye han founde my derlyng, that ye telle to hym, that Y am sijk for loue.
9 What is thy beloved more than another beloved, O thou fairest among women? what is thy beloved more than another beloved, that thou dost so charge us?
A! thou faireste of wymmen, of what manner condicioun is thi derlyng `of the louede? of what manner condicioun is thi derling of a derling? for thou hast bisouyt vs bi an hooli thing.
10 My beloved is white and ruddy, the chiefest among ten thousand.
My derling is whyt and rodi; chosun of thousyndis.
11 His head is as the most fine gold, his locks are bushy, and black as a raven.
His heed is best gold; hise heeris ben as the bowis of palm trees, and ben blake as a crowe.
12 His eyes are as the eyes of doves by the rivers of waters, washed with milk, and fitly set.
Hise iyen ben as culueris on the strondis of watris, that ben waischid in mylk, and sitten besidis fulleste ryueris.
13 His cheeks are as a bed of spices, as sweet flowers: his lips like lilies, dropping sweet smelling myrrh.
Hise chekis ben as gardyns of swete smellynge spices, set of oynement makeris; hise lippis ben lilies, droppynge doun the best myrre.
14 His hands are as gold rings set with the beryl: his belly is as bright ivory overlaid with sapphires.
Hise hondis ben able to turne aboute, goldun, and ful of iacynctis; his wombe is of yuer, ourned with safiris.
15 His legs are as pillars of marble, set upon sockets of fine gold: his countenance is as Lebanon, excellent as the cedars.
Hise lippis ben pilers of marble, that ben foundid on foundementis of gold; his schapplinesse is as of the Liban, he is chosun as cedris.
16 His mouth is most sweet: yea, he is altogether lovely. This is my beloved, and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem.
His throte is moost swete, and he is al desirable. Ye douytris of Jerusalem, siche is my derlyng, and this is my freend.
