The Song of Solomon

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- Kapitel 7 -

The woman’s lover speaking to her: You, the daughter of a prince, have lovely feet in your sandals. Your curved hips are like jewels that have been made by a skilled craftsman.

Your navel is like a round bowl that I hope will always be full of wine mixed with spices. Your waist is like a pile of wheat with lilies growing around it.

Your breasts are as delicate as two young twin deer.

Longing

Your neck is like a tower made of ivory. Your eyes sparkle the pools in the city of Heshbon, near the Bath Rabbim Gate. Your nose is long, like the tower in Lebanon that faces Damascus.

Your head is majestic like Mount Carmel. Your long hair is shiny and black; it is as though I, your king, am captured by your tresses.

You whom I love, you who have many charming features that attract me, you are very beautiful and pleasant.

Your love makes me happy

You are stately like a palm tree, and your breasts are like grape clusters.

I said to myself, “I will climb that palm tree and take hold of those clusters of dates.” I want your breasts to be also like clusters of grapes that I can feel; I want your breath to be like the sweet fragrance of apricots.

I want your kisses to be like very good wine. When I kiss you, the woman who loves me, I want it to be as if it was wine flowing over our mouths and teeth. The young woman speaking to her lover:

I belong to the man who loves me, and he desires me.

You who love me, let us go to the countryside, and sleep in a village somewhere.

I want to give you my love

And let us go early to the vineyards to see if the grapevines have budded and if there are blossoms on them that have opened, and see if the pomegranate trees are blooming, and there I will allow you to make love to me.

The mandrake plants are producing a fragrant odor, and we are surrounded by delightful pleasures, new ones and old ones, pleasures that I have been saving to give to you, the man who loves me.

How beautiful are your feet in sandals, prince’s daughter! Your rounded thighs are like jewels, the work of the hands of a skillful workman.

Your body is like a round goblet, no mixed wine is wanting. Your waist is like a heap of wheat, set about with lilies.

Your two breasts are like two fawns, that are twins of a roe.

Longing

Your neck is like an ivory tower. Your eyes are like the pools in Heshbon by the gate of Bathrabbim. Your nose is like the tower of Lebanon which looks toward Damascus.

Your head on you is like Carmel. The hair of your head like purple. The king is held captive in its tresses.

How beautiful and how pleasant you are, love, for delights!

Your love makes me happy

This, your stature, is like a palm tree, your breasts like its fruit.

I said, “I will climb up into the palm tree. I will take hold of its fruit.” Let your breasts be like clusters of the vine, the smell of your breath like apples.

Your mouth is like the best wine, that goes down smoothly for my beloved, gliding through the lips of those who are asleep.

I am my beloved’s. His desire is toward me.

Come, my beloved! Let’s go out into the field. Let’s lodge in the villages.

I want to give you my love

Let’s go early up to the vineyards. Let’s see whether the vine has budded, its blossom is open, and the pomegranates are in flower. There I will give you my love.

The mandrakes produce fragrance. At our doors are all kinds of precious fruits, new and old, which I have stored up for you, my beloved.