Canticle of Canticles 4

1How beautiful art thou, my love, how beautiful art thou! thy eyes are doves’ eyes, besides what is hid within. Thy hair is as flocks of goats, which come up from mount Galaad.

Quam pulchra es, amica mea ! quam pulchra es ! Oculi tui columbarum, absque eo quod intrinsecus latet. Capilli tui sicut greges caprarum quæ ascenderunt de monte Galaad.

2Thy teeth as flocks of sheep, that are shorn, which come up from the washing, all with twins, and there is none barren among them.

Dentes tui sicut greges tonsarum quæ ascenderunt de lavacro; omnes gemellis fœtibus, et sterilis non est inter eas.

3Thy lips are as a scarlet lace: and thy speech sweet. Thy cheeks are as a piece of a pomegranate, besides that which lieth hid within.

Sicut vitta coccinea labia tua, et eloquium tuum dulce. Sicut fragmen mali punici, ita genæ tuæ, absque eo quod intrinsecus latet.

4Thy neck, is as the tower of David, which is built with bulwarks: a thousand bucklers hang upon it, all the armour of valiant men.

Sicut turris David collum tuum, quæ ædificata est cum propugnaculis; mille clypei pendent ex ea, omnis armatura fortium.

5Thy two breasts like two young roes that are twins, which feed among the lilies.

Duo ubera tua sicut duo hinnuli, capreæ gemelli, qui pascuntur in liliis.

6Till the day break, and the shadows retire, I will go to the mountain of myrrh, and to the hill of frankincense.

Donec aspiret dies, et inclinentur umbræ, vadam ad montem myrrhæ, et ad collem thuris.

7Thou art all fair, O my love, and there is not a spot in thee.

Tota pulchra es, amica mea, et macula non est in te.

8Come from Libanus, my spouse, come from Libanus, come: thou shalt be crowned from the top of Amana, from the top of Sanir and Hermon, from the dens of the lions, from the mountains of the leopards.

Veni de Libano, sponsa mea: veni de Libano, veni, coronaberis: de capite Amana, de vertice Sanir et Hermon, de cubilibus leonum, de montibus pardorum.

9Thou hast wounded my heart, my sister, my spouse, thou hast wounded my heart with one of thy eyes, and with one hair of thy neck.

Vulnerasti cor meum, soror mea, sponsa; vulnerasti cor meum in uno oculorum tuorum, et in uno crine colli tui.

10How beautiful are thy breasts, my sister, my spouse! thy breasts are more beautiful than wine, and the sweet smell of thy ointments above all aromatical spices.

Quam pulchræ sunt mammæ tuæ, soror mea sponsa ! pulchriora sunt ubera tua vino, et odor unguentorum tuorum super omnia aromata.

11Thy lips, my spouse, are as a dropping honeycomb, honey and milk are under thy tongue; and the smell of thy garments, as the smell of frankincense.

Favus distillans labia tua, sponsa; mel et lac sub lingua tua: et odor vestimentorum tuorum sicut odor thuris.

12My sister, my spouse, is a garden enclosed, a garden enclosed, a fountain sealed up.

Hortus conclusus soror mea, sponsa, hortus conclusus, fons signatus.

13Thy plants are a paradise of pomegranates with the fruits of the orchard. Cypress with spikenard.

Emissiones tuæ paradisus malorum punicorum, cum pomorum fructibus, cypri cum nardo.

14Spikenard and saffron, sweet cane and cinnamon, with all the trees of Libanus, myrrh and aloes with all the chief perfumes.

Nardus et crocus, fistula et cinnamomum, cum universis lignis Libani; myrrha et aloë, cum omnibus primis unguentis.

15The fountain of gardens: the well of living waters, which run with a strong stream from Libanus.

Fons hortorum, puteus aquarum viventium, quæ fluunt impetu de Libano.

16Arise, O north wind, and come, O south wind, blow through my garden, and let the aromatical spices thereof flow.

Surge, aquilo, et veni, auster: perfla hortum meum, et fluant aromata illius.