Pesma nad pesmama 7
1 Kako su lijepe noge tvoje u obuæi, kæeri kneževska; sastavci su bedara tvojih kao grivne, djelo ruku umjetnièkih.
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 Pupak ti je kao èaša okrugla, koja nije nikad bez piæa; trbuh ti je kao stog pšenice ograðen ljiljanima;
Your waist [is] a basin of roundness, It does not lack the mixture, Your body a heap of wheat, fenced with lilies,
3 Dvije dojke tvoje kao dva blizanca srnèeta;
Your two breasts as two young ones, twins of a roe,
4 Vrat ti je kao kula od slonove kosti; oèi su ti kao jezera u Esevonu na vratima Vatravimskim; nos ti je kao kula Livanska koja gleda prema Damasku;
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 Glava je tvoja na tebi kao Karmil, i kosa na glavi tvojoj kao carska porfira u bore nabrana.
Your head on you as Carmel, And the locks of your head as purple, The king is bound with the flowings!
6 Kako si lijepa i kako si ljupka, o ljubavi u milinama!
How beautiful and how pleasant you have been, O love, in delights.
7 Uzrast ti je kao palma, i dojke kao grozdovi.
This your stature has been like to a palm, And your breasts to clusters.
8 Rekoh: popeæu se na palmu, dohvatiæu grane njezine; i biæe dojke tvoje kao grozdovi na vinovoj lozi, i miris nosa tvojega kao jabuke;
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 I grlo tvoje kao dobro vino, koje ide pravo dragomu mojemu i èini da govore usne onijeh koji spavaju.
And your palate as the good wine—Flowing to my beloved in uprightness, Strengthening the lips of the aged!
10 Ja sam dragoga svojega, i njega je želja za mnom.
I [am] my beloved’s, and on me [is] his desire.
11 Hodi, dragi moj, da idemo u polje, da noæujemo u selima.
Come, my beloved, we go forth to the field,
12 Raniæemo u vinograde da vidimo cvate li vinova loza, zameæe li se grožðe, cvatu li šipci; ondje æu ti dati ljubav svoju.
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 Mandragore puštaju miris, i na vratima je našim svakojako krasno voæe, novo i staro, koje za te dohranih, dragi moj.
The mandrakes have given fragrance, And at our openings all pleasant things, New, indeed, old, my beloved, I laid up for you!
