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 thy feet with sandals, O daughter of Nadib. The turnings of thy sides [are] as ornaments, Work of the hands of an artificer.
2 umbilicus tuus crater tornatilis numquam indigens poculis venter tuus sicut acervus tritici vallatus liliis
Thy waist [is] a basin of roundness, It lacketh not the mixture, Thy body a heap of wheat, fenced with lilies,
3 duo ubera tua sicut duo hinuli gemelli capreae
Thy 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
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,
5 caput tuum ut Carmelus et comae capitis tui sicut purpura regis vincta canalibus
Thy head upon thee as Carmel, And the locks of thy head as purple, The king is bound with the flowings!
6 quam pulchra es et quam decora carissima in deliciis
How fair and how pleasant hast thou been, O love, in delights.
7 statura tua adsimilata est palmae et ubera tua botris
This thy stature hath been like to a palm, And thy 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, Yea, let thy breasts be, I pray thee, as clusters of the vine, And the fragrance of thy face as citrons,
9 guttur tuum sicut vinum optimum dignum dilecto meo ad potandum labiisque et dentibus illius ruminandum
And thy 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 hath flourished, The sweet smelling-flower hath opened. The pomegranates have blossomed, There do I give to thee 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, yea, old, my beloved, I laid up for thee!
