Song of Songs 2:8
The voice of my beloved! lo, this -- he is coming, Leaping on the mountains, skipping on the hills.
The voice of my beloved! lo, this -- he is coming, Leaping on the mountains, skipping on the hills.
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9 My beloved `is' like to a roe, Or to a young one of the harts. Lo, this -- he is standing behind our wall, Looking from the windows, Blooming from the lattice.
10 My beloved hath answered and said to me, `Rise up, my friend, my fair one, and come away,
11 For lo, the winter hath passed by, The rain hath passed away -- it hath gone.
12 The flowers have appeared in the earth, The time of the singing hath come, And the voice of the turtle was heard in our land,
13 The fig-tree hath ripened her green figs, And the sweet-smelling vines have given forth fragrance, Rise, come, my friend, my fair one, yea, come away.
14 My dove, in clefts of the rock, In a secret place of the ascent, Cause me to see thine appearance, Cause me to hear thy voice, For thy voice `is' sweet, and thy appearance comely.
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!
16 My beloved `is' mine, and I `am' his, Who is delighting among the lilies,
17 Till the day doth break forth, And the shadows have fled away, Turn, be like, my beloved, To a roe, or to a young one of the harts, On the mountains of separation!
7 I have adjured you, daughters of Jerusalem, By the roes or by the hinds of the field, Stir not up nor wake the love till she please!
2 -- Pray, let me rise, and go round the city, In the streets and in the broad places, I seek him whom my soul hath loved! -- I sought him, and I found him not.
3 The watchmen have found me, (Who are going round about the city), `Him whom my soul have loved saw ye?'
4 But a little I passed on from them, Till I found him whom my soul hath loved! I seized him, and let him not go, Till I brought him in unto the house of my mother -- And the chamber of her that conceived me.
5 I have adjured you, daughters of Jerusalem, By the roes or by the hinds of the field, Stir not up nor wake the love till she please!
6 Who `is' this coming up from the wilderness, Like palm-trees of smoke, Perfumed `with' myrrh and frankincense, From every powder of the merchant?
5 Thy two breasts `are' as two fawns, Twins of a roe, that are feeding among lilies.
6 Till the day doth break forth, And the shadows have fled away, I will get me unto the mountain of myrrh, And unto the hill of frankincense.
7 Thou `art' all fair, my friend, And a blemish there is not in thee. Come from Lebanon, O spouse,
8 Come from Lebanon, come thou in. Look from the top of Amana, From the top of Shenir and Hermon, From the habitations of lions, From the mountains of leopards.
9 Thou hast emboldened me, my sister-spouse, Emboldened me with one of thine eyes, With one chain of thy neck.
1 I have come in to my garden, my sister-spouse, I have plucked my myrrh with my spice, I have eaten my comb with my honey, I have drunk my wine with my milk. Eat, O friends, drink, Yea, drink abundantly, O beloved ones!
2 I am sleeping, but my heart waketh: The sound of my beloved knocking! `Open to me, my sister, my friend, My dove, my perfect one, For my head is filled `with' dew, My locks `with' drops of the night.'
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 A bundle of myrrh `is' my beloved to me, Between my breasts it lodgeth.
14 A cluster of cypress `is' my beloved to me, In the vineyards of En-Gedi!
15 Lo, thou `art' fair, my friend, Lo, thou `art' fair, thine eyes `are' doves!
16 Lo, thou `art' fair, my love, yea, pleasant, Yea, our couch `is' green,
16 His mouth is sweetness -- and all of him desirable, This `is' my beloved, and this my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem!
1 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.
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 How fair and how pleasant hast thou been, O love, in delights.
1 Lo, thou `art' fair, my friend, lo, thou `art' fair, Thine eyes `are' doves behind thy veil, Thy hair as a row of the goats That have shone from mount Gilead,
8 I have adjured you, daughters of Jerusalem, If ye find my beloved -- What do ye tell him? that I `am' sick with love!
9 What `is' thy beloved above `any' beloved, O fair among women? What `is' thy beloved above `any' beloved, That thus thou hast adjured us?
10 My beloved `is' clear and ruddy, Conspicuous above a myriad!
7 Declare to me, thou whom my soul hath loved, Where thou delightest, Where thou liest down at noon, For why am I as one veiled, By the ranks of thy companions?
8 If thou knowest not, O fair among women, Get thee forth by the traces of the flock, And feed thy kids by the shepherds' dwellings!
9 To my joyous one in chariots of Pharaoh, I have compared thee, my friend,
6 I opened to my beloved, But my beloved withdrew -- he passed on, My soul went forth when he spake, I sought him, and found him not. I called him, and he answered me not.
16 Awake, O north wind, and come, O south, Cause my garden to breathe forth, its spices let flow, Let my beloved come to his garden, And eat its pleasant fruits!
3 As a citron among trees of the forest, So `is' my beloved among the sons, In his shade I delighted, and sat down, And his fruit `is' sweet to my palate.
4 Draw me: after thee we run, The king hath brought me into his inner chambers, We do joy and rejoice in thee, We mention thy loves more than wine, Uprightly they have loved thee!
1 Let me sing, I pray you, for my beloved, A song of my beloved as to his vineyard: My beloved hath a vineyard in a fruitful hill,