Song of Solomon 7
1 [[Lov.]] How beautiful are thy feet in sandals, O prince's daughter! The roundings of thy hips are like neck ornaments, The work of the hands of the artificer;
Quam pulchri sunt gressus tui in calceamentis, filia principis! Iuncturæ femorum tuorum, sicut monilia, quæ fabricata sunt manu artificis.
2 Thy navel is like a round goblet, that wanteth not the spiced wine; Thy belly like a heap of wheat, inclosed with lilies;
Umbilicus tuus crater tornatilis, numquam indigens poculis. Venter tuus sicut acervus tritici, vallatus liliis.
3 Thy two breasts are like two young twin gazelles;
Duo ubera tua, sicut duo hinnuli gemelli capreæ.
4 Thy neck is as a tower of ivory; Thine eyes are like the pools at Heshbon, by the gate of Bath-rabbim; Thy nose is as the tower of Lebanon, which looketh toward Damascus;
Collum tuum sicut turris eburnea. Oculi tui sicut piscinæ in Hesebon, quæ sunt in porta filiæ multitudinis. Nasus tuus sicut turris Libani, quæ respicit contra Damascum.
5 Thy head upon thee is like Carmel, And the hair of thy head like purple; The king is captivated by thy locks.
Caput tuum ut Carmelus: et comæ capitis tui, sicut purpura regis vincta canalibus.
6 How fair, how pleasant art thou, love, in delights!
Quam pulchra es, et quam decora charissima, in deliciis!
7 This thy stature is like the palm-tree, And thy breasts like clusters of dates.
Statura tua assimilata est palmæ, et ubera tua botris.
8 I will go up, say I to myself, upon the palm-tree; I will take hold of its boughs, And thy breasts shall be as clusters of the vine, And the fragrance of thy nose like apples,
Dixi: Ascendam in palmam, et apprehendam fructus eius: et erunt ubera tua sicut botri vineæ: et odor oris tui sicut malorum.
9 And thy mouth like the best wine— [[M.]] — that goeth down smoothly for my beloved, Flowing over the lips of them that sleep.
Guttur tuum sicut vinum optimum, dignum dilecto meo ad potandum, labiisque et dentibus illius ad ruminandum.
10 I am my beloved's, And his desire is toward me.
Ego dilecto meo, et ad me conversio eius.
11 Come, my beloved, let us go forth into the country; Let us lodge in the villages!
Veni dilecte mi, egrediamur in agrum, commoremur in villis.
12 Then will we go early to the vineyards, To see whether the vine putteth forth, Whether its blossom openeth, And the pomegranates bud forth; There will I give thee my love!
Mane surgamus ad vineas, videamus si floruit vinea, si flores fructus parturiunt, si floruerunt mala punica: ibi dabo tibi ubera mea.
13 The love-apples give forth fragrance; And at our doors are all kinds of precious fruits, new and old: I have kept them for thee, my beloved!
Mandragoræ dederunt odorem. In portis nostris omnia poma: nova et vetera, dilecte mi, servavi tibi.
