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.
Douytir of the prince, thi goyngis ben ful faire in schoon; the ioyncturis of thi heppis ben as brochis, that ben maad bi the hond of a crafti man.
2 Your waist [is] a basin of roundness, It does not lack the mixture, Your body a heap of wheat, fenced with lilies,
Thi nawle is as a round cuppe, and wel formed, that hath neuere nede to drynkis; thi wombe is as an heep of whete, biset aboute with lilies.
3 Your two breasts as two young ones, twins of a roe,
Thi twei teetis ben as twei kidis, twynnes of a capret.
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,
Thi necke is as a tour of yuer; thin iyen ben as cisternes in Esebon, that ben in the yate of the douyter of multitude; thi nose is as the tour of Liban, that biholdith ayens Damask.
5 Your head on you as Carmel, And the locks of your head as purple, The king is bound with the flowings!
Thin heed is as Carmele; and the heeres of thin heed ben as the kyngis purpur, ioyned to trowyis.
6 How beautiful and how pleasant you have been, O love, in delights.
Dereworthe spousesse, thou art ful fair, and ful schappli in delices.
7 This your stature has been like to a palm, And your breasts to clusters.
Thi stature is licned to a palm tree, and thi tetis to clustris of grapis.
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,
I seide, Y schal stie in to a palm tree, and Y schal take the fruytis therof. And thi tetis schulen be as the clustris of grapis of a vyner; and the odour of thi mouth as the odour of pumgranatis;
9 And your palate as the good wine—Flowing to my beloved in uprightness, Strengthening the lips of the aged!
thi throte schal be as beste wyn. Worthi to my derlyng for to drynke, and to hise lippis and teeth to chewe.
10 I [am] my beloved’s, and on me [is] his desire.
Y schal cleue by loue to my derlyng, and his turnyng schal be to me.
11 Come, my beloved, we go forth to the field,
Come thou, my derlyng, go we out in to the feeld; dwelle we togidere in townes.
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;
Ryse we eerli to the vyner; se we, if the vyner hath flourid, if the flouris bryngen forth fruytis, if pumgranatis han flourid; there I schal yyue to thee my tetis.
13 The mandrakes have given fragrance, And at our openings all pleasant things, New, indeed, old, my beloved, I laid up for you!
Mandrogoris han youe her odour in oure yatis; my derlyng, Y haue kept to thee alle applis, new and elde.
