Song of Solomon 4
1 Behold, you are beautiful, my love. Behold, you are beautiful. Your eyes are like doves behind your veil. Your hair is as a flock of goats, that descend from Mount Gilead.
| (الْمُحِبُّ): لَشَّدَ مَا أَنْتِ جَمِيلَةٌ يَا حَبِيبَتِي، لَشَّدَ مَا أَنْتِ جَمِيلَةٌ! عَيْنَاكِ مِنْ وَرَاءِ نَقَابِكِ كَحَمَامَتَيْنِ، وَشَعْرُكِ لِسَوَادِهِ كَقَطِيعِ مِعْزٍ مُنْحَدِرٍ مِنْ جَبَلِ جِلْعَادَ. | ١ |
2 Your teeth are like a newly shorn flock, which have come up from the washing, where every one of them has twins. None is bereaved amongst them.
| أَسْنَانُكِ كَقَطِيعٍ مَجْزُوزٍ خَارِجٍ مِنَ الاغْتِسَالِ، كُلُّ وَاحِدَةٍ ذَاتُ تَوْأَمٍ، وَمَا فِيهَا عَقِيمٌ. | ٢ |
3 Your lips are like scarlet thread. Your mouth is lovely. Your temples are like a piece of a pomegranate behind your veil.
| شَفَتَاكِ كَخَيْطٍ مِنَ الْقِرْمِزِ، وَحَدِيثُ فَمِكِ عَذْبٌ، وَخَدَّاكِ كَفِلْقَتَيْ رُمَّانَةٍ خَلْفَ نَقَابِكِ. | ٣ |
4 Your neck is like David’s tower built for an armoury, on which a thousand shields hang, all the shields of the mighty men.
| عُنُقُكِ مُمُاثِلٌ لِبُرْجِ دَاوُدَ الْمُشَيَّدِ لِيَكُونَ قَلْعَةً لِلسِّلاحِ، حَيْثُ عُلِّقَ فِيهِ أَلْفُ تُرْسٍ مِنْ تُرُوسِ الْمُحَارِبِينَ الصَّنَادِيدِ. | ٤ |
5 Your two breasts are like two fawns that are twins of a roe, which feed amongst the lilies.
| نَهْدَاكِ كَتَوْأَمَيْ ظَبْيَةٍ، تَوْأَمَيْنِ يَرْعَيَانِ بَيْنَ السَّوْسَنِ. | ٥ |
6 Until the day is cool, and the shadows flee away, I will go to the mountain of myrrh, to the hill of frankincense.
| وَمَا يَكَادُ يَتَنَفَّسُ النَّهَارُ وَتَنْهَزِمُ الظِّلالُ حَتَّى أَنْطَلِقَ إِلَى جَبَلِ الْمُرِّ وَإِلَى تَلِّ اللُّبَانِ. | ٦ |
7 You are all beautiful, my love. There is no spot in you.
| كُلُّكِ جَمِيلَةٌ يَا حَبِيبَتِي وَلا عَيْبَ فِيكِ. | ٧ |
8 Come with me from Lebanon, my bride, with me from Lebanon. Look from the top of Amana, from the top of Senir and Hermon, from the lions’ dens, from the mountains of the leopards.
| تَعَالَيْ مَعِي مِنْ لُبْنَانَ يَا عَرُوسِي. تَعَالَيْ مَعِي مِنْ لُبْنَانَ! انْظُرِي مِنْ قِمَّةِ جَبَلِ أَمَانَةَ، مِنْ رَأْسِ سَنِيرَ وَحَرْمُونَ، فِي عَرِينِ الأُسُودِ، مِنْ جِبَالِ النُّمُورِ. | ٨ |
9 You have ravished my heart, my sister, my bride. You have ravished my heart with one of your eyes, with one chain of your neck.
| قَدْ سَلَبْتِ قَلْبِي، يَا أُخْتِي يَا عَرُوسِي! قَدْ سَلَبْتِ قَلْبِي بِنَظْرَةِ عَيْنَيْكِ وَقِلادَةِ عُنُقِكِ. | ٩ |
10 How beautiful is your love, my sister, my bride! How much better is your love than wine, the fragrance of your perfumes than all kinds of spices!
| مَا أَعْذَبَ حُبَّكِ يَا أُخْتِي يَا عَرُوسِي! لَكَمْ حُبُّكِ أَلَذُّ مِنَ الْخَمْرِ، وَأَرِيجُ أَطْيَابِكِ أَزْكَى مِنْ كُلِّ الْعُطُورِ. | ١٠ |
11 Your lips, my bride, drip like the honeycomb. Honey and milk are under your tongue. The smell of your garments is like the smell of Lebanon.
| شَفَتَاكِ تَقْطُرَانِ شَهْداً أَيَّتُهَا الْعَرُوسُ، وَتَحْتَ لِسَانِكِ عَسَلٌ وَلَبَنٌ، وَرَائِحَةُ ثِيَابِكِ كَشَذَى لُبْنَانَ. | ١١ |
12 My sister, my bride, is a locked up garden; a locked up spring, a sealed fountain.
| أَنْتِ جَنَّةٌ مُغْلَقَةٌ يَا أُخْتِي الْعَرُوسَ. أَنْتِ عَيْنٌ مُقْفَلَةٌ وَيَنْبُوعٌ مَخْتُومٌ! | ١٢ |
13 Your shoots are an orchard of pomegranates, with precious fruits, henna with spikenard plants,
| أَغْرَاسُكِ فِرْدَوْسُ رُمَّانٍ مَعَ خِيرَةِ الأَثْمَارِ وَالحِنَّاءِ وَالنَّارْدِينِ. | ١٣ |
14 spikenard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon, with every kind of incense tree; myrrh and aloes, with all the best spices,
| نَارِدِينٍ وَزَعْفَرَانَ، قَصَبِ الذَّرِيرَةِ وَقِرْفَةٍ مَعَ كُلِّ أَصْنَافِ اللُّبَانِ وَالْمُرِّ وَالْعُودِ مَعَ أَفْخَرِ الْعُطُورِ. | ١٤ |
15 a fountain of gardens, a well of living waters, flowing streams from Lebanon.
| أَنْتِ يَنْبُوعُ جَنَّاتٍ وَبِئْرُ مِيَاهٍ حَيَّةٍ وَجَدَاوِلُ دَافِقَةٌ مِنْ لُبْنَانَ. | ١٥ |
16 Awake, north wind, and come, you south! Blow on my garden, that its spices may flow out. Let my beloved come into his garden, and taste his precious fruits.
| (الْمَحْبُوبَةُ): اسْتَيْقِظِي يَا رِيحَ الشِّمَالِ، وَهُبِّي يَا رِيحَ الْجَنُوبِ، هُبِّي عَلَى جَنَّتِي فَيَنْتَشِرَ عَبِيرُهَا. لِيُقْبِلْ حَبِيبِي إِلَى جَنَّتِهِ وَيَتَذَوَّقْ أَطْيَبَ أَثْمَارِهَا. | ١٦ |
