Song of Solomon 1
The Song of Songs, which pertaineth to Solomon.
2 Kisse he me with the cos of his mouth. For thi tetis ben betere than wyn,
[SHE] Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth! [THEY] For better are thy caresses than wine:
3 and yyuen odour with beste oynementis. Thi name is oile sched out; therfor yonge damesels loueden thee.
Like the fragrance of thy precious oils, Oil poured out, is thy name, For this cause, virgins love thee.
4 Drawe thou me after thee; we schulen renne in to the odour of thin oynementis. The kyng ledde me in to hise celeris; we myndeful of thi teetis aboue wyn, schulen make ful out ioye, and schulen be glad in thee; riytful men louen thee.
[SHE] Draw me! [THEY] After thee, will we run! [SHE] The king, hath brought me, into his chambers. [THEY] We will exult and rejoice in thee, we will mention thy caresses, beyond wine, Sincerely they love thee.
5 Ye douytris of Jerusalem, Y am blak, but fair, as the tabernaclis of Cedar, as the skynnes of Salomon.
[SHE] Swarthy, I am but comely, ye daughters of Jerusalem. [THEY] Like the tents of Kedar, like the curtains of Solomon.
6 Nyle ye biholde me, that Y am blak, for the sunne hath discolourid me; the sones of my modir fouyten ayens me, thei settiden me a kepere in vyners; Y kepte not my vyner.
[SHE] Do not look on me, because, I, am so swarthy, because the sun hath scorched me, —My mother’s sons, were angry with me, they set me to keep the vineyards, Mine own vineyard, have I not kept. …
7 Thou spouse, whom my soule loueth, schewe to me, where thou lesewist, where thou restist in myddai; lest Y bigynne to wandre, aftir the flockis of thi felowis.
Tell me, thou loved of my soul! Where wilt thou pasture thy flock? Where wilt thou let them recline at noon? For why should I be as one that wrappeth a veil about her, by the flocks of thy companions?
8 A! thou fairest among wymmen, if thou knowist not thi silf, go thou out, and go forth aftir the steppis of thi flockis; and feede thi kidis, bisidis the tabernaclis of scheepherdis.
[HE] If thou know not of thyself, most beautiful among women! get thee forth in the footsteps of the flock, and pasture thy kids by the huts of the shepherds. …
9 Mi frendesse, Y licnede thee to myn oost of knyytis in the charis of Farao.
To a mare of mine, in the chariots of Pharaoh, have I likened thee, my fair one!
10 Thi chekis ben feire, as of a turtle; thi necke is as brochis.
Comely are thy cheeks, with bead-rows, thy neck, with strings of gems.
11 We schulen make to thee goldun ournementis, departid and maad dyuerse with silver.
[THEY] Rows of golden ornaments, will we make thee, with studs of silver.
12 Whanne the kyng was in his restyng place, my narde yaf his odour.
[SHE] By the time the king is in his circle, my nard, will have given out its fragrance:
13 My derlyng is a bundel of myrre to me; he schal dwelle bitwixe my tetis.
A bag of myrrh, is my beloved to me, between my breasts, shall it tarry the night!
14 My derlyng is to me a cluster of cipre tre, among the vyneres of Engaddi.
A cluster of henna, is my beloved to me, in the vineyards of En-gedi.
15 Lo! my frendesse, thou art fair; lo! thou art fair, thin iyen ben the iyen of culueris.
[HE] Lo! thou art beautiful my fair one, lo! thou art beautiful, Thine eyes, [are] doves!
16 Lo, my derling, thou art fair, and schapli; oure bed is fair as flouris.
[SHE] Lo! thou art beautiful, my beloved, Yea delightful! [BOTH] Yea! our couch, is covered with leaves:
17 The trees of oure housis ben of cedre; oure couplis ben of cipresse.
The beams of our house, are cedars, Our fretted ceiling, is cypress-trees.
