Song of Solomon 5
1 Mi derlyng, come in to his gardyn, to ete the fruyt of hise applis. Mi sister spousesse, come thou in to my gardyn. Y have rope my myrre, with my swete smellynge spices; Y haue ete an hony combe, with myn hony; Y haue drunke my wyn, with my mylk. Frendis, ete ye, and drynke; and derewortheste frendis, be ye fillid greetli.
I enter my garden, my sister, my bride! I gather myrrh with my spice. I eat my honeycomb with my honey. I drink wine with my milk. Let us eat our fill of love! Let us be drunk with love!
2 Y slepe, and myn herte wakith. The vois of my derlyng knockynge; my sister, my frendesse, my culuer, my spousesse vnwemmed, opene thou to me; for myn heed is ful of dew, and myn heeris ben ful of dropis of niytis.
Though I was asleep, my mind was racing. I heard my love knocking, and calling out, “Please open the door, my sister, my darling, my dove, my perfect love. My head is soaked with dew, my hair is wet from the night mist.”
3 I have vnclothid me of my coote; hou schal Y be clothid ther ynne? I haue waische my feet; hou schal Y defoule tho?
I replied, “I've already got undressed. I don't have to get dressed again, do I? I've already washed my feet. I don't have to make them dirty again, do I?”
4 Mi derlyng putte his hond bi an hoole; and my wombe tremblide at the touchyng therof.
My love thrust his hand into the opening. Deep inside I longed for him.
5 Y roos, for to opene to my derlyng; myn hondis droppiden myrre, and my fyngris weren ful of myrre moost preued.
I got up to let my love in. My hands dripped with myrrh, my fingers with liquid myrrh, as I grabbed the handles of the bolt.
6 Y openede the wiket of my dore to my derlyng; and he hadde bowid awei, and hadde passid. My soule was meltid, as the derlyng spak; Y souyte, and Y foond not hym; Y clepide, and he answerde not to me.
I opened up to my love, but he had left—he was gone! I was crushed as a result. I looked for him but I couldn't find him. I called him but he didn't answer.
7 Keperis that cumpassiden the citee founden me; thei smytiden me, and woundiden me; the keperis of wallis token awey my mentil.
The watchmen found me as they went through the city. They beat me, they hurt me, and stole my cloak, those watchmen of the walls.
8 Ye douytris of Jerusalem, Y biseche you bi an hooli thing, if ye han founde my derlyng, that ye telle to hym, that Y am sijk for loue.
Women of Jerusalem, promise me if you find my love and wonder what you should tell him, tell him I am weak with love.
9 A! thou faireste of wymmen, of what manner condicioun is thi derlyng `of the louede? of what manner condicioun is thi derling of a derling? for thou hast bisouyt vs bi an hooli thing.
Why is the one you love better than any other, most beautiful of women? In what way is the one you love better than any other that we should promise you that?
10 My derling is whyt and rodi; chosun of thousyndis.
My love has dazzling good looks and is very fit—better than ten thousand others!
11 His heed is best gold; hise heeris ben as the bowis of palm trees, and ben blake as a crowe.
His head is like the finest gold, his hair is wavy and black as the raven.
12 Hise iyen ben as culueris on the strondis of watris, that ben waischid in mylk, and sitten besidis fulleste ryueris.
His eyes are like doves beside springs of water, washed with milk and mounted like sparkling jewels.
13 Hise chekis ben as gardyns of swete smellynge spices, set of oynement makeris; hise lippis ben lilies, droppynge doun the best myrre.
His cheeks are like a flowerbed of spices that produces fragrance. His lips are like lilies, dripping with liquid myrrh.
14 Hise hondis ben able to turne aboute, goldun, and ful of iacynctis; his wombe is of yuer, ourned with safiris.
His arms are round bars of gold inlaid with jewels. His abdomen is like carved ivory inlaid with lapis lazuli.
15 Hise lippis ben pilers of marble, that ben foundid on foundementis of gold; his schapplinesse is as of the Liban, he is chosun as cedris.
His legs are columns of alabaster set on bases of gold. He looks strong, like the mighty cedars of Lebanon.
16 His throte is moost swete, and he is al desirable. Ye douytris of Jerusalem, siche is my derlyng, and this is my freend.
His mouth is the sweetest ever; he is totally desirable! This is my love, my friend, women of Jerusalem.
