Song of Solomon 8
1 Who makes you as a brother to me, Suckling the breasts of my mother? I find you outside, I kiss you, Indeed, they do not despise me,
Who `mai grante to me thee, my brother, soukynge the tetis of my modir, that Y fynde thee aloone without forth, and that Y kisse thee, and no man dispise me thanne?
2 I lead you, I bring you into my mother’s house, She teaches me, I cause you to drink of the spiced wine, Of the juice of my pomegranate,
Y schal take thee, and Y schal lede thee in to the hous of my modir, and in to the closet of my modir; there thou schalt teche me, and Y schal yyue to thee drink of wyn maad swete, and of the must of my pumgranatis.
3 His left hand [is] under my head, And his right embraces me.
His lefthond vndur myn heed, and his riythond schal biclippe me.
4 I have adjured you, daughters of Jerusalem, How you stir up, And how you wake the love until she pleases!
Ye douytris of Jerusalem, Y charge you greetli, that ye reise not, nether make the dereworthe spousesse to awake, til sche wole.
5 Who [is] this coming from the wilderness, Hastening herself for her beloved? Under the citron-tree I have awoken you, There your mother pledged you, There she [who] bore you gave a pledge.
Who is this spousesse, that stieth fro desert, and flowith in delices, and restith on hir derlynge? Y reiside thee vndur a pumgranate tre; there thi modir was corrupt, there thi modir was defoulid.
6 Set me as a seal on your heart, as a seal on your arm, For strong as death is love, Sharp as Sheol is jealousy, Its burnings [are] burnings of fire, a flame of YAH! (Sheol h7585)
Set thou me as a signet on thin herte, as a signet on thin arm; for loue is strong as deth, enuy is hard as helle; the laumpis therof ben laumpis of fier, and of flawmes. (Sheol h7585)
7 Many waters are not able to quench the love, And floods do not wash it away. If one gives all the wealth of his house for love, Treading down—they tread on it.
Many watris moun not quenche charite, nether floodis schulen oppresse it. Thouy a man yyue al the catel of his hous for loue, he schal dispise `that catel as nouyt.
8 We have a little sister, and she does not have breasts, What do we do for our sister, In the day that it is told of her?
Oure sistir is litil, and hath no tetys; what schulen we do to oure sistir, in the dai whanne sche schal be spokun to?
9 If she is a wall, we build by her a palace of silver. And if she is a door, We fashion by her board-work of cedar.
If it is a wal, bilde we theronne siluerne touris; if it is a dore, ioyne we it togidere with tablis of cedre.
10 I [am] a wall, and my breasts as towers, Then I have been in his eyes as one finding peace.
I am a wal, and my tetis ben as a tour; sithen Y am maad as fyndynge pees bifore hym.
11 Solomon has a vineyard in Ba‘al-Hamon, He has given the vineyard to keepers, Each brings for its fruit one thousand pieces of silver;
A vyner was to the pesible; in that citee, that hath puplis, he bitook it to keperis; a man bryngith a thousynde platis of siluer for the fruyt therof.
12 My vineyard—my own—is before me, The one thousand [is] for you, O Solomon. And the two hundred for those keeping its fruit. O dweller in gardens!
The vyner is bifore me; a thousynde ben of thee pesible, and two hundrid to hem that kepen the fruytis therof.
13 The companions are attending to your voice, Cause me to hear. Flee, my beloved, and be like to a roe,
Frendis herkene thee, that dwellist in orchertis; make thou me to here thi vois.
14 Or to a young one of the harts on mountains of spices!
My derlyng, fle thou; be thou maad lijk a capret, and a calf of hertis, on the hillis of swete smellynge spices.
