Song of Songs 7

shuvi shuvi hashulammit shuvi shuvi venekhezeh-bbakh mah-ttekhezu bashulammit kimkholat hammakhanayim

Turn back, turn back, O maid of Shulem! Turn back, turn back, That we may gaze upon you. “Why will you gaze at the Shulammite In the Mahanaim dance?”

mah-yyafu fe'amayikh banne'alim bat-nadiv khammuqe yerekhayikh kemo khala'im ma'aseh yede omman

How lovely are your feet in sandals, O daughter of nobles! Your rounded thighs are like jewels, The work of a master’s hand.

shorrekh aggan hassahar al-yekhsar hammazeg bitnekh aremat khittim sugah bashoshannim

Your navel is like a round goblet— Let mixed wine not be lacking!— Your belly like a heap of wheat Hedged about with lilies.

shene shadayikh kishne ofarim to'ome tseviyyah

Your breasts are like two fawns, Twins of a gazelle.

tsavvarekh kemigdal hashen enayikh berekhot bekheshbon al-sha'ar bat-rabbim appekh kemigdal hallevanon tsofeh pene dammaseq

Your neck is like a tower of ivory, Your eyes like pools in Heshbon By the gate of Bath-rabbim, Your nose like the Lebanon tower That faces toward Damascus.

roshekh alayikh kakkarmel vedallat roshekh ka'argaman melekh asur barehatim

The head upon you is like crimson wool, The locks of your head are like purple— A king is held captive in the tresses.

mah-yyafit umah-nna'amt ahavah batta'anugim

How fair you are, how beautiful! O Love, with all its rapture!

zot qomatekh dametah letamar veshadayikh le'ashkolot

Your stately form is like the palm, Your breasts are like clusters.

amarti e'eleh vetamar okhazah besansinnayw veyihyu-na shadayikh ke'eshkelot haggefen vereakh appekh kattappukhim

I say: Let me climb the palm, Let me take hold of its branches; Let your breasts be like clusters of grapes, Your breath like the fragrance of apples,

vekhikkekh keyen hattov holekh ledodi lemesharim dovev sifte yeshenim

And your mouth like choicest wine. “Let it flow to my beloved as new wine Gliding over the lips of sleepers.”

ani ledodi ve'alay teshuqato

I am my beloved’s, And his desire is for me.

lekhah dodi netse hassadeh nalinah bakkefarim

Come, my beloved, Let us go into the open; Let us lodge among the henna shrubs.

nashkimah lakkeramim nireh im-parekhah haggefen pittakh hassemadar henetsu harimmonim sham etten et-doday lakh

Let us go early to the vineyards; Let us see if the vine has flowered, If its blossoms have opened, If the pomegranates are in bloom. There I will give my love to you.

hadduda'im natenu-reakh ve'al-petakhenu kol-megadim khadashim gam-yeshanim dodi tsafanti lakh

The mandrakes yield their fragrance, At our doors are all choice fruits; Both freshly picked and long-stored Have I kept, my beloved, for you.