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Song of Songs 4

How beautiful you are, my love. How beautiful. Your eyes behind your veil are doves. Your hair is like a flock of goats coming down from Mount Gilead. Your teeth are like a flock of sheep newly shorn, coming up from the washing. Every one bears twins, and none is barren among them. Your lips are like a scarlet thread, and your speech is l

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You're all beautiful

How beautiful you are, my love. How beautiful. Your eyes behind your veil are doves. Your hair is like a flock of goats coming down from Mount Gilead. Your teeth are like a flock of sheep newly shorn, coming up from the washing. Every one bears twins, and none is barren among them. Your lips are like a scarlet thread, and your speech is lovely. Your temples behind your locks are like a piece of pomegranate. Your neck is like the tower of David, built for an armoury, where a thousand small shields hang — all shields of mighty men. Your two breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle, grazing among the lilies. Until the day breathes and the shadows run away, I will go to the mountain of myrrh and the hill of frankincense. You are altogether beautiful, my love. There is no flaw in you.

Look — you're beautiful, my love. Look — you're beautiful. You've got dove's eyes behind your veil. Your hair is like a flock of goats coming down from Mount Gilead. Your teeth are like a flock of sheep just shorn, that have come up from the washing — every one bearing twins, and none of them barren. Your lips are like a thread of scarlet, and your speech is lovely. Your temples are like a piece of pomegranate behind your veil. Your neck is like the tower of David built for an armoury, that a thousand shields hang on, all the shields of strong men. Your two breasts are like two young deer that are twins, feeding among the lilies. Till the day breaks and the shadows run away, I'll get myself to the mountain of myrrh and to the hill of frankincense. You're all beautiful, my love. There's no spot in you.

Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair; thou hast doves’ eyes within thy locks: thy hair is as a flock of goats, that appear from mount Gilead. Thy teeth are like a flock of sheep that are even shorn, which came up from the washing; whereof every one bear twins, and none is barren among them. Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet, and thy speech is comely: thy temples are like a piece of a pomegranate within thy locks. Thy neck is like the tower of David builded for an armoury, whereon there hang a thousand bucklers, all shields of mighty men. Thy two breasts are like two young roes that are twins, which feed among the lilies. Until the day break, and the shadows flee away, I will get me to the mountain of myrrh, and to the hill of frankincense. Thou art all fair, my love; there is no spot in thee.

1

How beautiful you are, my love. How beautiful. Your eyes behind your veil are doves. Your hair is like a flock of goats coming down from Mount Gilead.

Plain English

Look — you're beautiful, my love. Look — you're beautiful. You've got dove's eyes behind your veil. Your hair is like a flock of goats coming down from Mount Gilead.

King James Version, 1611

Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair; thou hast doves’ eyes within thy locks: thy hair is as a flock of goats, that appear from mount Gilead.

2

Your teeth are like a flock of sheep newly shorn, coming up from the washing. Every one bears twins, and none is barren among them.

Plain English

Your teeth are like a flock of sheep just shorn, that have come up from the washing — every one bearing twins, and none of them barren.

King James Version, 1611

Thy teeth are like a flock of sheep that are even shorn, which came up from the washing; whereof every one bear twins, and none is barren among them.

3

Your lips are like a scarlet thread, and your speech is lovely. Your temples behind your locks are like a piece of pomegranate.

Plain English

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

King James Version, 1611

Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet, and thy speech is comely: thy temples are like a piece of a pomegranate within thy locks.

4

Your neck is like the tower of David, built for an armoury, where a thousand small shields hang — all shields of mighty men.

Plain English

Your neck is like the tower of David built for an armoury, that a thousand shields hang on, all the shields of strong men.

King James Version, 1611

Thy neck is like the tower of David builded for an armoury, whereon there hang a thousand bucklers, all shields of mighty men.

5

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

Plain English

Your two breasts are like two young deer that are twins, feeding among the lilies.

King James Version, 1611

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

6

Until the day breathes and the shadows run away, I will go to the mountain of myrrh and the hill of frankincense.

Plain English

Till the day breaks and the shadows run away, I'll get myself to the mountain of myrrh and to the hill of frankincense.

King James Version, 1611

Until the day break, and the shadows flee away, I will get me to the mountain of myrrh, and to the hill of frankincense.

7

You are altogether beautiful, my love. There is no flaw in you.

Plain English

You're all beautiful, my love. There's no spot in you.

King James Version, 1611

Thou art all fair, my love; there is no spot in thee.

A garden shut up

Come with me from Lebanon, my bride, come with me from Lebanon. Look from the top of Amana, from the top of Shenir and Hermon, from the lions' dens, from the mountains of the leopards. You have stolen my heart, my sister, my bride. You have stolen my heart with one of your eyes, with one chain of your neck. How lovely is your love, my sister, my bride. How much better is your love than wine, and the scent of your oils than any spice. Your lips drip honey from the comb, my bride. Honey and milk are under your tongue, and the scent of your clothes is like the scent of Lebanon. You are a garden locked up, my sister, my bride — a spring shut up, a fountain sealed. Your plants are an orchard of pomegranates with pleasant fruits, camphire with spikenard, spikenard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon, with every tree of frankincense, myrrh and aloes, and all the chief spices. You are a garden fountain, a well of living water, streams flowing down from Lebanon. Wake up, north wind. Come, south wind. Blow on my garden and let its spices flow out. Let my love come into his garden and eat its choice fruits.

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've taken my heart, my sister, my bride. You've taken my heart with one of your eyes, with one chain of your neck. How beautiful your love is, my sister, my bride. How much better than wine is your love, and the smell of your oils than all spices. Your lips drip like the honeycomb, my bride. Honey and milk are under your tongue. And the smell of your clothes is like the smell of Lebanon. A garden shut up is my sister, my bride, a spring shut up, a fountain sealed. Your plants are an orchard of pomegranates with pleasant fruits, henna with spikenard, spikenard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon, with all the trees of frankincense, myrrh and aloes, with all the best spices. A fountain of gardens, a well of living waters, and streams from Lebanon. Wake up, north wind. And come, south wind. Blow on my garden, so its spices flow out. Let my love come into his garden and eat his pleasant fruits.

Come with me from Lebanon, my spouse, with me from Lebanon: look from the top of Amana, from the top of Shenir and Hermon, from the lions’ dens, from the mountains of the leopards. Thou hast ravished my heart, my sister, my spouse; thou hast ravished my heart with one of thine eyes, with one chain of thy neck. How fair is thy love, my sister, my spouse! how much better is thy love than wine! and the smell of thine ointments than all spices! Thy lips, O my spouse, drop as the honeycomb: honey and milk are under thy tongue; and the smell of thy garments is like the smell of Lebanon. A garden inclosed is my sister, my spouse; a spring shut up, a fountain sealed. Thy plants are an orchard of pomegranates, with pleasant fruits; camphire, with spikenard, Spikenard and saffron; calamus and cinnamon, with all trees of frankincense; myrrh and aloes, with all the chief spices: A fountain of gardens, a well of living waters, and streams from Lebanon. Awake, O north wind; and come, thou south; blow upon my garden, that the spices thereof may flow out. Let my beloved come into his garden, and eat his pleasant fruits.

8

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

Plain English

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.

King James Version, 1611

Come with me from Lebanon, my spouse, with me from Lebanon: look from the top of Amana, from the top of Shenir and Hermon, from the lions’ dens, from the mountains of the leopards.

9

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

Plain English

You've taken my heart, my sister, my bride. You've taken my heart with one of your eyes, with one chain of your neck.

King James Version, 1611

Thou hast ravished my heart, my sister, my spouse; thou hast ravished my heart with one of thine eyes, with one chain of thy neck.

10

How lovely is your love, my sister, my bride. How much better is your love than wine, and the scent of your oils than any spice.

Plain English

How beautiful your love is, my sister, my bride. How much better than wine is your love, and the smell of your oils than all spices.

King James Version, 1611

How fair is thy love, my sister, my spouse! how much better is thy love than wine! and the smell of thine ointments than all spices!

11

Your lips drip honey from the comb, my bride. Honey and milk are under your tongue, and the scent of your clothes is like the scent of Lebanon.

Plain English

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

King James Version, 1611

Thy lips, O my spouse, drop as the honeycomb: honey and milk are under thy tongue; and the smell of thy garments is like the smell of Lebanon.

12

You are a garden locked up, my sister, my bride — a spring shut up, a fountain sealed.

Plain English

A garden shut up is my sister, my bride, a spring shut up, a fountain sealed.

King James Version, 1611

A garden inclosed is my sister, my spouse; a spring shut up, a fountain sealed.

13

Your plants are an orchard of pomegranates with pleasant fruits, camphire with spikenard,

Plain English

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

King James Version, 1611

Thy plants are an orchard of pomegranates, with pleasant fruits; camphire, with spikenard,

14

spikenard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon, with every tree of frankincense, myrrh and aloes, and all the chief spices.

Plain English

spikenard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon, with all the trees of frankincense, myrrh and aloes, with all the best spices.

King James Version, 1611

Spikenard and saffron; calamus and cinnamon, with all trees of frankincense; myrrh and aloes, with all the chief spices:

15

You are a garden fountain, a well of living water, streams flowing down from Lebanon.

Plain English

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

King James Version, 1611

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

16

Wake up, north wind. Come, south wind. Blow on my garden and let its spices flow out. Let my love come into his garden and eat its choice fruits.

Plain English

Wake up, north wind. And come, south wind. Blow on my garden, so its spices flow out. Let my love come into his garden and eat his pleasant fruits.

King James Version, 1611

Awake, O north wind; and come, thou south; blow upon my garden, that the spices thereof may flow out. Let my beloved come into his garden, and eat his pleasant fruits.