< Song of Solomon 7 >

1 How beautiful, are thy feet in sandals, O daughter of a noble, —The curvings of thy hips, are like ornaments wrought by the hands of a skilled workman:
Quam pulchri sunt gressus tui in calceamentis, filia principis! Iuncturæ femorum tuorum, sicut monilia, quæ fabricata sunt manu artificis.
2 Thy navel, is a round bowl, may it not lack spiced wine! Thy body, a heap of wheat fenced about with lilies;
Umbilicus tuus crater tornatilis, numquam indigens poculis. Venter tuus sicut acervus tritici, vallatus liliis.
3 Thy two breasts, are like two young roes, the twins of a gazelle:
Duo ubera tua, sicut duo hinnuli gemelli capreæ.
4 Thy neck, is like a tower of ivory, —Thine eyes, are pools in Heshbon, by the gate of Bath-rabbim, Thy nose, is like the tower of Lebanon, which looketh towards Damascus:
Collum tuum sicut turris eburnea. Oculi tui sicut piscinæ in Hesebon, quæ sunt in porta filiæ multitudinis. Nasus tuus sicut turris Libani, quæ respicit contra Damascum.
5 Thy head upon thee, is like Carmel, And, the hair of thy head, is like purple, —The king, is held captive by the ringlets!
Caput tuum ut Carmelus: et comæ capitis tui, sicut purpura regis vincta canalibus.
6 [HE] How beautiful, and how delightful, O dear love, for delights:
Quam pulchra es, et quam decora charissima, in deliciis!
7 This thy stature, is like to a palm-tree, and, thy breasts, are like clusters:
Statura tua assimilata est palmæ, et ubera tua botris.
8 I said, I will ascend the palm-tree, I will lay hold of its fruit stalks—Oh then, let thy breasts, I pray thee, be like vine-clusters, And, the fragrance of thy nose, like apples;
Dixi: Ascendam in palmam, et apprehendam fructus eius: et erunt ubera tua sicut botri vineæ: et odor oris tui sicut malorum.
9 And, thy mouth, like good wine—[SHE] Flowing to my beloved smoothly, gliding over the lips of the sleeping.
Guttur tuum sicut vinum optimum, dignum dilecto meo ad potandum, labiisque et dentibus illius ad ruminandum.
10 I, am my beloved’s, and, unto me, is his longing.
Ego dilecto meo, et ad me conversio eius.
11 Come, my beloved, Let us go forth into the country, Let us stay the night in the villages:
Veni dilecte mi, egrediamur in agrum, commoremur in villis.
12 Let us get up early to the vineyards, Let us see whether the vine, hath burst forth, the blossom, hath opened, the pomegranates, have bloomed, —There, will I give my caresses to thee.
Mane surgamus ad vineas, videamus si floruit vinea, si flores fructus parturiunt, si floruerunt mala punica: ibi dabo tibi ubera mea.
13 The love-apples, have given fragrance, and, at our openings, are all precious things, new and yet old, —O my beloved! I have treasured them up for thee.
Mandragoræ dederunt odorem. In portis nostris omnia poma: nova et vetera, dilecte mi, servavi tibi.

< Song of Solomon 7 >