Song of Solomon 7
1 As the chorus of “Mahanaim.” How beautiful were your feet with sandals, O daughter of Nadib. The turnings of your sides [are] as ornaments, Work of the hands of a craftsman.
| مَا أَجْمَلَ رِجْلَيْكِ بِٱلنَّعْلَيْنِ يَا بِنْتَ ٱلْكَرِيمِ! دَوَائِرُ فَخْذَيْكِ مِثْلُ ٱلْحَلِيِّ، صَنْعَةِ يَدَيْ صَنَّاعٍ. | ١ |
2 Your waist [is] a basin of roundness, It does not lack the mixture, Your body a heap of wheat, fenced with lilies,
| سُرَّتُكِ كَأْسٌ مُدَوَّرَةٌ، لَا يُعْوِزُهَا شَرَابٌ مَمْزُوجٌ. بَطْنُكِ صُبْرَةُ حِنْطَةٍ مُسَيَّجَةٌ بِٱلسَّوْسَنِ. | ٢ |
3 Your two breasts as two young ones, twins of a roe,
| ثَدْيَاكِ كَخَشْفَتَيْنِ، تَوْأَمَيْ ظَبْيَةٍ. | ٣ |
4 Your neck as a tower of the ivory, Your eyes pools in Heshbon, near the Gate of Bath-Rabbim, Your face as a tower of Lebanon looking to Damascus,
| عُنُقُكِ كَبُرْجٍ مِنْ عَاجٍ. عَيْنَاكِ كَٱلْبِرَكِ فِي حَشْبُونَ عِنْدَ بَابِ بَثِّ رَبِّيمَ. أَنْفُكِ كَبُرْجِ لُبْنَانَ ٱلنَّاظِرِ تُجَاهَ دِمَشْقَ. | ٤ |
5 Your head on you as Carmel, And the locks of your head as purple, The king is bound with the flowings!
| رَأْسُكِ عَلَيْكِ مِثْلُ ٱلْكَرْمَلِ، وَشَعْرُ رَأْسِكِ كَأُرْجُوَانٍ. مَلِكٌ قَدْ أُسِرَ بِٱلْخُصَلِ. | ٥ |
6 How beautiful and how pleasant you have been, O love, in delights.
| مَا أَجْمَلَكِ وَمَا أَحْلَاكِ أَيَّتُهَا ٱلْحَبِيبَةُ بِٱللَّذَّاتِ! | ٦ |
7 This your stature has been like to a palm, And your breasts to clusters.
| قَامَتُكِ هَذِهِ شَبِيهَةٌ بِٱلنَّخْلَةِ، وَثَدْيَاكِ بِٱلْعَنَاقِيدِ. | ٧ |
8 I said, “Let me go up on the palm, Let me lay hold on its boughs,” Indeed, let your breasts now be as clusters of the vine, And the fragrance of your face as citrons,
| قُلْتُ: «إِنِّي أَصْعَدُ إِلَى ٱلنَّخْلَةِ وَأُمْسِكُ بِعُذُوقِهَا». وَتَكُونُ ثَدْيَاكِ كَعَنَاقِيدِ ٱلْكَرْمِ، وَرَائِحَةُ أَنْفِكِ كَٱلتُّفَّاحِ، | ٨ |
9 And your palate as the good wine—Flowing to my beloved in uprightness, Strengthening the lips of the aged!
| وَحَنَكُكِ كَأَجْوَدِ ٱلْخَمْرِ. لِحَبِيبِي ٱلسَّائِغَةُ ٱلْمُرَقْرِقَةُ ٱلسَّائِحَةُ عَلَى شِفَاهِ ٱلنَّائِمِينَ. | ٩ |
10 I [am] my beloved’s, and on me [is] his desire.
| أَنَا لِحَبِيبِي، وَإِلَيَّ ٱشْتِيَاقُهُ. | ١٠ |
11 Come, my beloved, we go forth to the field,
| تَعَالَ يَاحَبِيبِي لِنَخْرُجْ إِلَى ٱلْحَقْلِ، وَلْنَبِتْ فِي ٱلْقُرَى. | ١١ |
12 We lodge in the villages, we go early to the vineyards, We see if the vine has flourished, The sweet smelling-flower has opened. The pomegranates have blossomed, There I give to you my loves;
| لِنُبَكِّرَنَّ إِلَى ٱلْكُرُومِ، لِنَنْظُرَ: هَلْ أَزْهَرَ ٱلْكَرْمُ؟ هَلْ تَفَتَّحَ ٱلْقُعَالُ؟ هَلْ نَوَّرَ ٱلرُّمَّانُ؟ هُنَالِكَ أُعْطِيكَ حُبِّي. | ١٢ |
13 The mandrakes have given fragrance, And at our openings all pleasant things, New, indeed, old, my beloved, I laid up for you!
| اَللُّفَّاحُ يَفُوحُ رَائِحَةً، وَعِنْدَ أَبْوَابِنَا كُلُّ ٱلنَّفَائِسِ مِنْ جَدِيدَةٍ وَقَدِيمَةٍ، ذَخَرْتُهَا لَكَ يَاحَبِيبِي. | ١٣ |
