The Song of Solomon

⭑ Unlocked Literal Bible :: World English Bible Catholic ⭑

- Chapter 4 -

How beautiful you are!

The woman’s lover speaking to her-Oh, you are beautiful, my love; you are beautiful. Your eyes are doves behind your veil. Your hair is like a flock of goats going down from Mount Gilead.

Your teeth are like a flock of newly shorn ewes, coming up from the washing place. Each one has a twin, and none among them is bereaved.

Your lips are like a thread of scarlet; your mouth is lovely. Your cheeks are like pomegranate halves behind your veil.

Your neck is like the tower of David built in rows of stone, with a thousand shields hanging on it, all the shields of soldiers.

The power of love

Your two breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle, grazing among the lilies.

Until the dawn arrives and the shadows flee away, I will go to the mountain of myrrh and to the hill of frankincense.

You are beautiful in every way, my love and there is no blemish in you.

Come with me from Lebanon, my bride. Come with me from Lebanon; come from the top of Amana, from the top of Senir and Hermon, from lions’ dens, from mountain dens of leopards.

You have stolen my heart, my sister, my bride; you have stolen my heart, with just one look at me, with just one jewel of your necklace.

How beautiful is your love, my sister, my bride! How much better is your love than wine, and the fragrance of your perfume than any spice.

Your lips, my bride, drip honey; honey and milk are under your tongue; the fragrance of your garments is like the fragrance of Lebanon.

A garden full of noble plants

My sister, my bride is a garden locked up, a garden locked up, a spring that is sealed.

Your branches are a grove of pomegranate trees with choice fruits, and of henna and nard plants,

Spikenard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon with all kinds of spices, myrrh and aloes with all the finest spices.

You are a garden spring, a well of fresh water, streams flowing down from Lebanon. The young woman speaking to her lover-

Awake, north wind; come, south wind; blow on my garden so that its spices may give off their fragrance. May my beloved come into his garden and eat some of its choice fruit.

How beautiful you are!

Behold, you are beautiful, my love. Behold, you are beautiful. Your eyes are like doves behind your veil. Your hair is as a flock of goats, that descend from Mount Gilead.

Your teeth are like a newly shorn flock, which have come up from the washing, where every one of them has twins. None is bereaved among them.

Your lips are like scarlet thread. Your mouth is lovely. Your temples are like a piece of a pomegranate behind your veil.

Your neck is like David’s tower built for an armory, on which a thousand shields hang, all the shields of the mighty men.

The power of love

Your two breasts are like two fawns that are twins of a roe, which feed among the lilies.

Until the day is cool, and the shadows flee away, I will go to the mountain of myrrh, to the hill of frankincense.

You are all beautiful, my love. There is no spot in you.

Come with me from Lebanon, my bride, with me from Lebanon. Look from the top of Amana, from the top of Senir and Hermon, from the lions’ dens, from the mountains of the leopards.

You have ravished my heart, my sister, my bride. You have ravished my heart with one of your eyes, with one chain of your neck.

How beautiful is your love, my sister, my bride! How much better is your love than wine, the fragrance of your perfumes than all kinds of spices!

Your lips, my bride, drip like the honeycomb. Honey and milk are under your tongue. The smell of your garments is like the smell of Lebanon.

A garden full of noble plants

My sister, my bride, is a locked up garden; a locked up spring, a sealed fountain.

Your shoots are an orchard of pomegranates, with precious fruits, henna with spikenard plants,

spikenard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon, with every kind of incense tree; myrrh and aloes, with all the best spices,

a fountain of gardens, a well of living waters, flowing streams from Lebanon.

Awake, north wind, and come, you south! Blow on my garden, that its spices may flow out. Let my beloved come into his garden, and taste his precious fruits.