Song of Solomon 6-8
Young's Literal Translation
6 Whither hath thy beloved gone, O fair among women? Whither hath thy beloved turned, And we seek him with thee?
2 My beloved went down to his garden, To the beds of the spice, To delight himself in the gardens, and to gather lilies.
3 I [am] my beloved's, and my beloved [is] mine, Who is delighting himself among the lilies.
4 Fair [art] thou, my friend, as Tirzah, Comely as Jerusalem, Awe-inspiring as bannered hosts.
5 Turn round thine eyes from before me, Because they have made me proud. Thy hair [is] as a row of the goats, That have shone from Gilead,
6 Thy teeth as a row of the lambs, That have come up from the washing, Because all of them are forming twins, And a bereaved one is not among them.
7 As the work of the pomegranate [is] thy temple behind thy veil.
8 Sixty are queens, and eighty concubines, And virgins without number.
9 One is my dove, my perfect one, One she [is] of her mother, The choice one she [is] of her that bare her, Daughters saw, and pronounce her happy, Queens and concubines, and they praise her.
10 `Who [is] this that is looking forth as morning, Fair as the moon -- clear as the sun, Awe-inspiring as bannered hosts?'
11 Unto a garden of nuts I went down, To look on the buds of the valley, To see whither the vine had flourished, The pomegranates had blossomed --
12 I knew not my soul, It made me -- chariots of my people Nadib.
13 Return, return, O Shulammith! Return, return, and we look upon thee. What do ye see in Shulammith?
7 As the chorus of `Mahanaim.' How beautiful were thy feet with sandals, O daughter of Nadib. The turnings of thy sides [are] as ornaments, Work of the hands of an artificer.
2 Thy waist [is] a basin of roundness, It lacketh not the mixture, Thy body a heap of wheat, fenced with lilies,
3 Thy two breasts as two young ones, twins of a roe,
4 Thy neck as a tower of the ivory, Thine eyes pools in Heshbon, near the gate of Bath-Rabbim, Thy face as a tower of Lebanon looking to Damascus,
5 Thy head upon thee as Carmel, And the locks of thy head as purple, The king is bound with the flowings!
6 How fair and how pleasant hast thou been, O love, in delights.
7 This thy stature hath been like to a palm, And thy breasts to clusters.
8 I said, `Let me go up on the palm, Let me lay hold on its boughs, Yea, let thy breasts be, I pray thee, as clusters of the vine, And the fragrance of thy face as citrons,
9 And thy palate as the good wine --' Flowing to my beloved in uprightness, Strengthening the lips of the aged!
10 I [am] my beloved's, and on me [is] his desire.
11 Come, my beloved, we go forth to the field,
12 We lodge in the villages, we go early to the vineyards, We see if the vine hath flourished, The sweet smelling-flower hath opened. The pomegranates have blossomed, There do I give to thee my loves;
13 The mandrakes have given fragrance, And at our openings all pleasant things, New, yea, old, my beloved, I laid up for thee!
8 Who doth make thee as a brother to me, Sucking the breasts of my mother? I find thee without, I kiss thee, Yea, they do not despise me,
2 I lead thee, I bring thee in unto my mother's house, She doth teach me, I cause thee to drink of the perfumed wine, Of the juice of my pomegranate,
3 His left hand [is] under my head, And his right doth embrace me.
4 I have adjured you, daughters of Jerusalem, How ye stir up, And how ye wake the love till she please!
5 Who [is] this coming from the wilderness, Hasting herself for her beloved? Under the citron-tree I have waked thee, There did thy mother pledge thee, There she gave a pledge [that] bare thee.
6 Set me as a seal on thy heart, as a seal on thine arm, For strong as death is love, Sharp as Sheol is jealousy, Its burnings [are] burnings of fire, a flame of Jah!
7 Many waters are not able to quench the love, And floods do not wash it away. If one give all the wealth of his house for love, Treading down -- they tread upon it.
8 We have a little sister, and breasts she hath not, What do we do for our sister, In the day that it is told of her?
9 If she is a wall, we build by her a palace of silver. And if she is a door, We fashion by her board-work of cedar.
10 I [am] a wall, and my breasts as towers, Then I have been in his eyes as one finding peace.
11 Solomon hath a vineyard in Baal-Hamon, He hath given the vineyard to keepers, Each bringeth for its fruit a thousand silverlings;
12 My vineyard -- my own -- is before me, The thousand [is] for thee, O Solomon. And the two hundred for those keeping its fruit. O dweller in gardens!
13 The companions are attending to thy voice, Cause me to hear. Flee, my beloved, and be like to a roe,
14 Or to a young one of the harts on mountains of spices!
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