Song of Solomon 2
1 I am a crocus of Sharon, a lily of the valleys.
| (الْمَحْبُوبَةُ): أَنَا وَرْدَةُ شَارُونَ، سُوسَنَةُ الأَوْدِيَةِ. | ١ |
2 As a lily among thorns, so is my love among the daughters.
| (المُحِبُّ): كَسُوسَنَةٍ بَيْنَ أَشْوَاكٍ، هَكَذَا حَبِيبَتِي بَيْنَ الْبَنَاتِ. | ٢ |
3 As the apple tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his shadow with great delight, his fruit was sweet to my taste.
| (الْمَحْبُوبَةُ): حَبِيبِي بَيْنَ الْفِتْيَانِ كَشَجَرَةِ تُفَّاحٍ بَيْنَ أَشْجَارِ الْوَعْرِ، تَحْتَ ظِلِّهِ اشْتَهَيْتُ أَنْ أَجْلِسَ، وَثَمَرُهُ حُلْوٌ لِحَلْقِي. | ٣ |
4 He brought me to the banquet hall, and his banner over me was love.
| أَتَى بِي إِلَى قَاعَةِ احْتِفَالِهِ، وَرَايَتُهُ فَوْقِي مَحَبَّةٌ. | ٤ |
5 Strengthen me with raisins, refresh me with apples; For I am faint with love.
| أَسْنِدُونِي بِأَقْرَاصِ الزَّبِيبِ، أَنْعِشُونِي بِالتُّفَّاحِ، فَإِنِّي مَرِيضَةٌ حُبّاً. | ٥ |
6 His left hand is under my head. His right hand embraces me.
| شِمَالُهُ تَحْتَ رَأْسِي، وَيَمِينُهُ تُعَانِقُنِي. | ٦ |
7 I adjure you, daughters of Jerusalem, by the gazelles, or by the does of the field, that you not stir up, nor awaken love, until it so desires.
| أَسْتَحْلِفُكُنَّ يَا بَنَاتِ أُورُشَلِيمَ بِظِبَاءِ الصَّحْرَاءِ وَأَيَائِلِهَا أَلّا تُوْقِظْنَ أَوْ تُنَبِّهْنَ حَبِيبِي حَتَّى يَشَاءَ. | ٧ |
8 The voice of my beloved. Look, he comes, leaping on the mountains, skipping on the hills.
| هَذَا صَوْتُ حَبِيبِي! هَا هُوَ آتٍ طَافِراً عَلَى الْجِبَالِ وَاثِباً فَوْقَ التِّلالِ. | ٨ |
9 My beloved is like a gazelle or a young deer. Look, he stands behind our wall. He looks in at the windows. He glances through the lattice.
| حَبِيبِي كَظَبْيٍ أَوْ كَالأُيَّلِ الْفَتِيِّ. هَا هُوَ وَاقِفٌ وَرَاءَ جِدَارِنَا يَرْنُو مِنَ الْكُوَى وَيَسْتَرِقُ النَّظَرَ مِنْ خِلالِ النَّوَافِذِ الْمُشَبَّكَةِ. | ٩ |
10 My beloved spoke, and said to me, "Rise up, my love, my beautiful one, and come away.
| خَاطَبَنِي حَبِيبِي وَقَالَ: انْهَضِي يَا حَبِيبَتِي يَا جَمِيلَتِي وَتَعَالَيْ مَعِي، | ١٠ |
11 For, look, the winter is past. The rain is over and gone.
| فَهَا الشِّتَاءُ قَدِ انْقَضَى، وَكَفَّ الْمَطَرُ وَزَالَ. | ١١ |
12 The flowers appear on the earth. The time of the singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land.
| وَأَزْهَرَتِ الأَرْضُ، وَحَلَّ مَوْسِمُ التَّغْريِدِ، وَتَرَدَّدَ هَدِيلُ الْيَمَامِ فِي أَرْضِنَا. | ١٢ |
13 The fig tree ripens her green figs. The vines are in blossom. They give forth their fragrance. Arise, my love, my beautiful one, and come away."
| قَدْ أَنْبَتَتِ التِّينَةُ فِجَّهَا، وَنَشَرَتِ الْكُرُومُ الْمُزْهِرَةُ عَبِيرَهَا، فَانْهَضِي يَا حَبِيبَتِيِ يَا جَمِيلَتِي وَتَعَالَيْ. | ١٣ |
14 My dove in the clefts of the rock, In the hiding places of the mountainside, Let me see your face. Let me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet, and your face is lovely.
| (المُحِبُّ): يَا حَمَامَتِي الْمُحْتَمِيَةَ بِشُقُوقِ الصَّخْرِ وَمَخَابِئِ الْجِبَالِ، أَرِينِي وَجْهَكِ وَأَسْمِعِينِي صَوْتَكِ، لأَنَّ صَوْتَكِ عَذْبٌ وَمُحَيَّاكِ رَائِعٌ. | ١٤ |
15 Catch for us the foxes, the little foxes that spoil the vineyards; for our vineyards are in blossom.
| اقْتَنِصُوا لَنَا الثَّعَالِبَ الصِّغَارَ الَّتِي تُتْلِفُ الْكُرُومَ، فَإِنَّ كُرُومَنَا قَدْ أَزْهَرَتْ. | ١٥ |
16 My beloved is mine, and I am his. He browses among the lilies.
| (الْمَحْبُوبَةُ): حَبِيبِي لِي وَأَنَا لَهُ، هُوَ يَرْعَى قَطِيعَهُ بَيْنَ السَّوْسَنِ. | ١٦ |
17 Until the day is cool, and the shadows flee away, turn, my beloved, and be like a gazelle or a young stag on the mountains of Bether.
| إِلَى أَنْ يَطْلَعَ النَّهَارُ وَتَنْهَزِمَ الظِّلالُ، ارْجِعْ يَا حَبِيبِي وَكُنْ كَالظَّبْيِ أَوِ الأُيَّلِ الْفَتِيِّ عَلَى جِبَالِ الأَطْيَابِ. | ١٧ |
