Canticum Canticorum 7
1 quam pulchri sunt gressus tui in calciamentis filia principis iunctura feminum tuorum sicut monilia quae fabricata sunt manu artificis
As the chorus of “Mahanaim.” How beautiful were your feet with sandals, O daughter of Nadib. The turnings of your sides [are] as ornaments, Work of the hands of a craftsman.
2 umbilicus tuus crater tornatilis numquam indigens poculis venter tuus sicut acervus tritici vallatus liliis
Your waist [is] a basin of roundness, It does not lack the mixture, Your body a heap of wheat, fenced with lilies,
3 duo ubera tua sicut duo hinuli gemelli capreae
Your two breasts as two young ones, twins of a roe,
4 collum tuum sicut turris eburnea oculi tui sicut piscinae in Esebon quae sunt in porta filiae multitudinis nasus tuus sicut turris Libani quae respicit contra Damascum
Your neck as a tower of the ivory, Your eyes pools in Heshbon, near the Gate of Bath-Rabbim, Your face as a tower of Lebanon looking to Damascus,
5 caput tuum ut Carmelus et comae capitis tui sicut purpura regis vincta canalibus
Your head on you as Carmel, And the locks of your head as purple, The king is bound with the flowings!
6 quam pulchra es et quam decora carissima in deliciis
How beautiful and how pleasant you have been, O love, in delights.
7 statura tua adsimilata est palmae et ubera tua botris
This your stature has been like to a palm, And your breasts to clusters.
8 dixi ascendam in palmam adprehendam fructus eius et erunt ubera tua sicut botri vineae et odor oris tui sicut malorum
I said, “Let me go up on the palm, Let me lay hold on its boughs,” Indeed, let your breasts now be as clusters of the vine, And the fragrance of your face as citrons,
9 guttur tuum sicut vinum optimum dignum dilecto meo ad potandum labiisque et dentibus illius ruminandum
And your palate as the good wine—Flowing to my beloved in uprightness, Strengthening the lips of the aged!
10 ego dilecto meo et ad me conversio eius
I [am] my beloved’s, and on me [is] his desire.
11 veni dilecte mi egrediamur in agrum commoremur in villis
Come, my beloved, we go forth to the field,
12 mane surgamus ad vineas videamus si floruit vinea si flores fructus parturiunt si floruerunt mala punica ibi dabo tibi ubera mea
We lodge in the villages, we go early to the vineyards, We see if the vine has flourished, The sweet smelling-flower has opened. The pomegranates have blossomed, There I give to you my loves;
13 mandragorae dederunt odorem in portis nostris omnia poma nova et vetera dilecte mi servavi tibi
The mandrakes have given fragrance, And at our openings all pleasant things, New, indeed, old, my beloved, I laid up for you!
