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Youngs Literal Translation |   | |
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| | Sgs 4:1 | Lo, thou `art' fair, my friend, lo, thou `art' fair, Thine eyes `are' doves behind thy veil, Thy hair as a row of the goats That have shone from mount Gilead,
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| | Sgs 4:2 | Thy teeth as a row of the shorn ones That have come up from the washing, For all of them are forming twins, And a bereaved one is not among them.
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| | Sgs 4:3 | As a thread of scarlet `are' thy lips, And thy speech `is' comely, As the work of the pomegranate `is' thy temple behind thy veil,
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| | Sgs 4:4 | As the tower of David `is' thy neck, built for an armoury, The chief of the shields are hung on it, All shields of the mighty.
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| | Sgs 4:5 | Thy two breasts `are' as two fawns, Twins of a roe, that are feeding among lilies.
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| | Sgs 4:6 | Till the day doth break forth, And the shadows have fled away, I will get me unto the mountain of myrrh, And unto the hill of frankincense.
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| | Sgs 4:7 | Thou `art' all fair, my friend, And a blemish there is not in thee. Come from Lebanon, O spouse,
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| | Sgs 4:8 | Come from Lebanon, come thou in. Look from the top of Amana, From the top of Shenir and Hermon, From the habitations of lions, From the mountains of leopards.
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| | Sgs 4:9 | Thou hast emboldened me, my sister-spouse, Emboldened me with one of thine eyes, With one chain of thy neck.
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| | Sgs 4:10 | How wonderful have been thy loves, my sister-spouse, How much better have been thy loves than wine, And the fragrance of thy perfumes than all spices.
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| | Sgs 4:11 | Thy lips drop honey, O spouse, Honey and milk `are' under thy tongue, And the fragrance of thy garments `Is' as the fragrance of Lebanon.
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| | Sgs 4:12 | A garden shut up `is' my sister-spouse, A spring shut up -- a fountain sealed.
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| | Sgs 4:13 | Thy shoots a paradise of pomegranates, With precious fruits,
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| | Sgs 4:14 | Cypresses with nard -- nard and saffron, Cane and cinnamon, With all trees of frankincense, Myrrh and aloes, with all chief spices.
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| | Sgs 4:15 | A fount of gardens, a well of living waters, And flowings from Lebanon!
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| | Sgs 4:16 | Awake, O north wind, and come, O south, Cause my garden to breathe forth, its spices let flow, Let my beloved come to his garden, And eat its pleasant fruits!
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