Song of Solomon 6
1 To where has your beloved gone, O beautiful among women? To where has your beloved turned, And we seek him with you?
Thou faireste of wymmen, whidur yede thi derlyng? whidur bowide thi derlyng? and we schulen seke hym with thee.
2 My beloved went down to his garden, To the beds of the spice, To delight himself in the gardens, and to gather lilies.
My derlyng yede doun in to his orcherd, to the gardyn of swete smellynge spices, that he be fed there in orcherdis, and gadere lilyes.
3 I [am] my beloved’s, and my beloved [is] mine, Who is delighting himself among the lilies.
Y to my derlyng; and my derlyng, that is fed among the lilies, be to me.
4 You [are] beautiful, my friend, as Tirzah, lovely as Jerusalem, Awe-inspiring as bannered hosts.
Mi frendesse, thou art fair, swete and schappli as Jerusalem, thou art ferdful as the scheltrun of oostis set in good ordre.
5 Turn around your eyes from before me, Because they have made me proud. Your hair [is] as a row of the goats, That have shone from Gilead,
Turne awei thin iyen fro me, for tho maden me to fle awei; thin heeris ben as the flockis of geet, that apperiden fro Galaad.
6 Your teeth as a row of the lambs, That have come up from the washing, Because all of them are forming twins, And a bereaved one is not among them.
Thi teeth as a flok of scheep, that stieden fro waischyng; alle ben with double lambren, `ether twynnes, and no bareyn is among tho.
7 As the work of the pomegranate [is] your temple behind your veil.
As the rynde of a pumgranate, so ben thi chekis, without thi priuytees.
8 Sixty are queens, and eighty concubines, And virgins without number.
Sixti ben queenys, and eiyti ben secundarie wyues; and of yong damesels is noon noumbre.
9 One is my dove, my perfect one, She [is] one of her mother, She [is] the choice one of her that bore her, Daughters saw, and pronounce her blessed, Queens and concubines, and they praise her.
Oon is my culuer, my perfit spousesse, oon is to hir modir, and is the chosun of hir modir; the douytris of Syon sien hir, and prechiden hir moost blessid; queenys, and secundarie wyues preisiden hir.
10 “Who [is] this that is looking forth as morning, Beautiful as the moon—clear as the sun, Awe-inspiring as bannered hosts?”
Who is this, that goith forth, as the moreutid risynge, fair as the moone, chosun as the sunne, ferdful as the scheltrun of oostis set in good ordre?
11 To a garden of nuts I went down, To look on the buds of the valley, To see to where the vine had flourished, The pomegranates had blossomed—
Y cam doun in to myn orcherd, to se the applis of grete valeis, and to biholde, if vyneris hadden flourid, and if pumgranate trees hadden buriowned.
12 I did not know my soul, It made me—chariots of my people Nadib.
Y knew not; my soule disturblide me, for the charis of Amynadab.
13 Return, return, O Shulammith! Return, return, and we look on you. What do you see in Shulammith?
Turne ayen, turne ayen, thou Sunamyte; turne ayen, turne ayen, that we biholde thee. What schalt thou se in the Sunamyte, no but cumpenyes of oostis?
