<= | Chapter 4 of 8 | =>
S.S.|4:1|-||a|Oh, you are beautiful, my love!Oh, you are beautiful! Your |1|eyes are like doves behind your veil;
Your |1|hair is like a flock of goatsThat repose on Mount Gilead.
S.S.|4:2|-||a|Your |1|teeth are like a flock of shorn ewesThat have come up from the washing,
All of which have borne twins,And none of them is bereaved of her young.
S.S.|4:3|-|Your |1|lips are like a |a|scarlet thread,And your mouth is lovely;
Your cheeks are like a piece of pomegranateBehind your veil.
S.S.|4:4|-|Your |1a|neck is like the tower of David,Built for an armory:
A thousand bucklers hang on it,All the shields of the mighty men.
S.S.|4:5|-||a|Your two |1|breasts are like two fawns,Twins of a gazelle,
That feed among the lilies.
S.S.|4:6|-||a|Until the day |1|dawns and the shadows flee away,I, for my part, will go to the mountain of |b|myrrh
And to the hill of frankincense.
S.S.|4:7|-|You are altogether |1|beautiful, my love,And there is no |a|blemish in you.
S.S.|4:8|-|Come with me from |1|Lebanon, my |a|bride;With me from |2|Lebanon come.
Look from the top of |3|Amana,From the top of |4|Senir and |5b|Hermon,
From the |6|lions’ dens,From the |6|leopards’ mountains.
S.S.|4:9|-|You have |1|ravished my heart, my |2|sister, my bride;You have |1|ravished my heart with one glance of your eyes,
With one strand of your |a|necklace.
S.S.|4:10|-|How beautiful is your |1|love, my sister, my bride!How much better is your |a|love than wine,
And the |b|fragrance of your ointmentsThan all spices!
S.S.|4:11|-|Your |1|lips drip fresh honey, my bride;Honey and milk are under your tongue;
And the fragrance of your garmentsIs like the |a|fragrance of Lebanon.
S.S.|4:12|-|A |1|garden enclosed is my |2|sister, my bride,A spring shut up, a fountain sealed.
S.S.|4:13|-|Your shoots are an |1|orchard of pomegranatesWith choicest fruit;
Henna with spikenard,
S.S.|4:14|-|Spikenard and saffron;|a|Calamus and cinnamon,
With all the trees of frankincense;|b|Myrrh and aloes,
With all the chief spices.
S.S.|4:15|-|A |1|fountain in gardens,A |1|well of |a|living water,
And |1|streams from Lebanon.
S.S.|4:16|-|Awake, O |1|north wind;And come, O |1|south wind!
Blow upon my garden:Let its |a|spices flow forth;
Let my beloved come into his |b|gardenAnd eat his choicest fruit.
<= | Chapter 4 of 8 | =>
Book of Song of Songs
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