Song of Solomon 7
1 As the chorus of 'Mahanaim.' How beautiful were thy feet with sandals, O daughter of Nadib. The turnings of thy sides [are] as ornaments, Work of the hands of an artificer.
| مَا أَجْمَلَ رِجْلَيْكِ بِٱلنَّعْلَيْنِ يَا بِنْتَ ٱلْكَرِيمِ! دَوَائِرُ فَخْذَيْكِ مِثْلُ ٱلْحَلِيِّ، صَنْعَةِ يَدَيْ صَنَّاعٍ. | ١ |
2 Thy waist [is] a basin of roundness, It lacketh not the mixture, Thy body a heap of wheat, fenced with lilies,
| سُرَّتُكِ كَأْسٌ مُدَوَّرَةٌ، لَا يُعْوِزُهَا شَرَابٌ مَمْزُوجٌ. بَطْنُكِ صُبْرَةُ حِنْطَةٍ مُسَيَّجَةٌ بِٱلسَّوْسَنِ. | ٢ |
3 Thy two breasts as two young ones, twins of a roe,
| ثَدْيَاكِ كَخَشْفَتَيْنِ، تَوْأَمَيْ ظَبْيَةٍ. | ٣ |
4 Thy neck as a tower of the ivory, Thine eyes pools in Heshbon, near the gate of Bath-Rabbim, Thy face as a tower of Lebanon looking to Damascus,
| عُنُقُكِ كَبُرْجٍ مِنْ عَاجٍ. عَيْنَاكِ كَٱلْبِرَكِ فِي حَشْبُونَ عِنْدَ بَابِ بَثِّ رَبِّيمَ. أَنْفُكِ كَبُرْجِ لُبْنَانَ ٱلنَّاظِرِ تُجَاهَ دِمَشْقَ. | ٤ |
5 Thy head upon thee as Carmel, And the locks of thy head as purple, The king is bound with the flowings!
| رَأْسُكِ عَلَيْكِ مِثْلُ ٱلْكَرْمَلِ، وَشَعْرُ رَأْسِكِ كَأُرْجُوَانٍ. مَلِكٌ قَدْ أُسِرَ بِٱلْخُصَلِ. | ٥ |
6 How fair and how pleasant hast thou been, O love, in delights.
| مَا أَجْمَلَكِ وَمَا أَحْلَاكِ أَيَّتُهَا ٱلْحَبِيبَةُ بِٱللَّذَّاتِ! | ٦ |
7 This thy stature hath been like to a palm, And thy breasts to clusters.
| قَامَتُكِ هَذِهِ شَبِيهَةٌ بِٱلنَّخْلَةِ، وَثَدْيَاكِ بِٱلْعَنَاقِيدِ. | ٧ |
8 I said, 'Let me go up on the palm, Let me lay hold on its boughs, Yea, let thy breasts be, I pray thee, as clusters of the vine, And the fragrance of thy face as citrons,
| قُلْتُ: «إِنِّي أَصْعَدُ إِلَى ٱلنَّخْلَةِ وَأُمْسِكُ بِعُذُوقِهَا». وَتَكُونُ ثَدْيَاكِ كَعَنَاقِيدِ ٱلْكَرْمِ، وَرَائِحَةُ أَنْفِكِ كَٱلتُّفَّاحِ، | ٨ |
9 And thy palate as the good wine — 'Flowing to my beloved in uprightness, Strengthening the lips of the aged!
| وَحَنَكُكِ كَأَجْوَدِ ٱلْخَمْرِ. لِحَبِيبِي ٱلسَّائِغَةُ ٱلْمُرَقْرِقَةُ ٱلسَّائِحَةُ عَلَى شِفَاهِ ٱلنَّائِمِينَ. | ٩ |
10 I [am] my beloved's, and on me [is] his desire.
| أَنَا لِحَبِيبِي، وَإِلَيَّ ٱشْتِيَاقُهُ. | ١٠ |
11 Come, my beloved, we go forth to the field,
| تَعَالَ يَاحَبِيبِي لِنَخْرُجْ إِلَى ٱلْحَقْلِ، وَلْنَبِتْ فِي ٱلْقُرَى. | ١١ |
12 We lodge in the villages, we go early to the vineyards, We see if the vine hath flourished, The sweet smelling-flower hath opened. The pomegranates have blossomed, There do I give to thee my loves;
| لِنُبَكِّرَنَّ إِلَى ٱلْكُرُومِ، لِنَنْظُرَ: هَلْ أَزْهَرَ ٱلْكَرْمُ؟ هَلْ تَفَتَّحَ ٱلْقُعَالُ؟ هَلْ نَوَّرَ ٱلرُّمَّانُ؟ هُنَالِكَ أُعْطِيكَ حُبِّي. | ١٢ |
13 The mandrakes have given fragrance, And at our openings all pleasant things, New, yea, old, my beloved, I laid up for thee!
| اَللُّفَّاحُ يَفُوحُ رَائِحَةً، وَعِنْدَ أَبْوَابِنَا كُلُّ ٱلنَّفَائِسِ مِنْ جَدِيدَةٍ وَقَدِيمَةٍ، ذَخَرْتُهَا لَكَ يَاحَبِيبِي. | ١٣ |
