Song of Solomon 4
1 Behold, thou art beautiful, my beloved, behold, thou art beautiful: thy dovelike eyes [look forth] from behind thy vail; thy hair is like a flock of goats, that come quietly down from Mount Gil'ad.
[HE] Lo! thou art beautiful, my fair one, Lo! thou art beautiful, Thine eyes, are doves, from behind thy veil, —Thy hair, is like a flock of goats, which are reclining on the sides of Mount Gilead:
2 Thy teeth are like a flock of well-selected sheep, which are come up from the washing, all of which bear twins, and there is not one among them that is deprived of her young.
Thy teeth, are like a flock, evenly grown, which have come up from the washing-place, —whereof, all of them, are twin-bearers, and bereaved, is none among them:
3 Like a thread of scarlet are thy lips, and thy mouth is comely: like the half of a pomegranate is the upper part of thy cheek behind thy vail.
Like a cord of crimson, are thy lips, and, thy mouth, is lovely, —Like a slice of pomegranate, are thy temples, behind thy veil:
4 Thy neck is like the tower of David built on terraces, a thousand shields hang-thereon, all the quivers of the mighty men.
Like the tower of David, is thy neck, built for war, —A thousand shields, hung thereon, all, equipment of heroes:
5 Thy two breasts are like two fawns, the twins of the roe, that feed among the lilies.
Thy two breasts, are like two young roes, twins of a gazelle, —which pasture among lilies.
6 Until the day became cool, and the shadows flee away, will I get me to the mountain of myrrh, and to the hill of frankincense.
Until the day, breathe, and the shadows, be lengthened, I will get me unto the mountain of myrrh, and unto the hill of frankincense.
7 Thou art altogether beautiful, my beloved, and there is no blemish on thee.—
Thou art, all over, beautiful, my fair one, and, blemish, is there none in thee.
8 Come with me from Lebanon, O bride, with me from Lebanon: look about from the top of Amanah, from the top of Senir and Chermon, from the lions' dens, from the leopards' mountains.
With me, from Lebanon, O bride, with me, from Lebanon, shalt thou enter, —Thou shalt look round from the top of Amana, from the top of Senir, and Hermon, from the dens of lions, from the mountains of leopards.
9 Thou hast ravished my heart, O my sister, [my] bride; thou hast ravished my heart with one of thy eyes, with one chain of thy neck.
Thou hast encouraged me, my sister, bride, —thou hast encouraged me, with one [glance] of thine eyes, with one ornament of thy neck.
10 How beautiful are thy caresses, O my sister, [my] bride! how much more pleasant are thy caresses than wine! and the smell of thy fragrant oils more than all spices.
How beautiful are thy caresses, my sister, bride, —how much more delightful thy caresses, than wine, and the fragrance of thine oils, than all spices:
11 Of sweet honey drop thy lips, O bride: honey and milk are under thy tongue; and the scent of thy garments is like the scent of Lebanon.
With sweetness, thy lips do drip, O bride, —Honey and milk, are under thy tongue, and, the fragrance of thy garments, is like the fragrance of Lebanon.
12 A locked-up garden is my sister, [my] bride; a locked-up spring, a sealed fountain.
A garden barred, is my sister, bride, —a spring barred, a fountain sealed:
13 Thy sprouts are an orchard of pomegranates, with precious fruits, copher and spikenard;
Thy buddings forth, are a paradise of pomegranates, with precious fruits, —henna bushes, with nard blossoms:
14 Spikenard and saffron; calamus and cinnamon, with all the trees of frankincense; myrrh and aloes, with all the chief of spices;
Nard and saffron, sweet cane and cinnamon, with all woods of frankincense, —myrrh and aloes, with all the chiefs of spices:
15 A garden-spring, a well of living waters, and flowing down from Lebanon.—
A garden fountain, a well of living waters, —and flowings from Lebanon.
16 Awake, O north wind; and come thou, O south; blow over my garden, that its spices may flow out. Let my friend come into his garden, and eat its precious fruits.—
[SHE] Awake, O north wind, and come in, thou south, Fan my garden—its balsams, will flow out, —Let my beloved enter his garden, and eat his precious fruits.
