Song 6 | Fn | Min | Max | Syll | ||
אָ֚נָה הָלַ֣ךְ דּוֹדֵ֔ךְ הַיָּפָ֖ה בַּנָּשִׁ֑ים אָ֚נָה פָּנָ֣ה דוֹדֵ֔ךְ וּנְבַקְשֶׁ֖נּוּ עִמָּֽךְ | 1 | C | Where has he gone, your beloved, O beautiful among women? Where has he faced, your beloved, so we may seek him with you? | 3e | 4C | 12 12 |
דּוֹדִי֙ יָרַ֣ד לְגַנּ֔וֹ לַעֲרוּג֖וֹת הַבֹּ֑שֶׂם לִרְעוֹת֙ בַּגַּנִּ֔ים וְלִלְקֹ֖ט שֽׁוֹשַׁנִּֽים | 2 | My beloved descends to his garden, to the terraces of spices, to graze in the gardens, and to glean lilies. | 3e | 4B | 14 11 | |
אֲנִ֤י לְדוֹדִי֙ וְדוֹדִ֣י לִ֔י הָרֹעֶ֖ה בַּשׁוֹשַׁנִּֽים | 3 | I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine; he grazes among the lilies. | 3e | 4C | 16 | |
יָפָ֨ה אַ֤תְּ רַעְיָתִי֙ כְּתִרְצָ֔ה נָאוָ֖ה כִּירוּשָׁלִָ֑ם אֲיֻמָּ֖ה כַּנִּדְגָּלֽוֹת | 4 | Beautiful is my friend, as Tirzah, lovely as Jerusalem, horrible as a banner set up. | 3e | 4C | 15 7 | |
הָסֵ֤בִּי עֵינַ֙יִךְ֙ מִנֶּגְדִּ֔י שֶׁ֥הֵ֖ם הִרְהִיבֻ֑נִי שַׂעְרֵךְ֙ כְּעֵ֣דֶר הָֽעִזִּ֔ים שֶׁגָּלְשׁ֖וּ מִן־הַגִּלְעָֽד | 5 | Turn round your eyes from announcing me, such that they make me bold. Your hair is like a troop of she-goats curled up from the Gilead. | 3e | 4C | 15 15 | |
שִׁנַּ֙יִךְ֙ כְּעֵ֣דֶר הָֽרְחֵלִ֔ים שֶׁעָל֖וּ מִן־הָרַחְצָ֑ה שֶׁכֻּלָּם֙ מַתְאִימ֔וֹת וְשַׁכֻּלָ֖ה אֵ֥ין בָּהֶֽם | 6 | Your teeth are like a troop of ewe that have ascended from the wash, such that all of them are bearing twins, and there is not one among them bereaved. | 3e | 4B | 16 13 | |
כְּפֶ֤לַח הָרִמּוֹן֙ רַקָּתֵ֔ךְ מִבַּ֖עַד לְצַמָּתֵֽךְ | 7 | Like the slice of the pomegranate, your temple from within your headscarf. | 3e | 4C | 16 | |
שִׁשִּׁ֥ים הֵ֙מָּה֙ מְּלָכ֔וֹת וּשְׁמֹנִ֖ים פִּֽילַגְשִׁ֑ים וַעֲלָמ֖וֹת אֵ֥ין מִסְפָּֽר | 8 | Sixty queens there were, and eighty courtesans, and young women without count. | 3e | 4A | 13 7 | |
אַחַ֥ת הִיא֙ יוֹנָתִ֣י תַמָּתִ֔י אַחַ֥ת הִיא֙ לְאִמָּ֔הּ בָּרָ֥ה הִ֖יא לְיֽוֹלַדְתָּ֑הּ רָא֤וּהָ בָנוֹת֙ וַֽיְאַשְּׁר֔וּהָ מְלָכ֥וֹת וּפִֽילַגְשִׁ֖ים וַֽיְהַלְלֽוּהָ | 9 | She is unique, my dove, my completion. She is unique of her mother, she is pure to the one who gave her birth. Daughters saw her. Queens and courtesans considered her happy and they praised her. | 3e | 4C | 22 20 | |
מִי־זֹ֥את הַנִּשְׁקָפָ֖ה כְּמוֹ־שָׁ֑חַר יָפָ֣ה כַלְּבָנָ֗ה בָּרָה֙ כַּֽחַמָּ֔ה אֲיֻמָּ֖ה כַּנִּדְגָּלֽוֹת | 10 | Who is this looking down, like dawn, beautiful as frankincense, pure as heat, horrible as a banner set up? | 3e | 4B | 9 17 | |
אֶל־גִּנַּ֤ת אֱגוֹז֙ יָרַ֔דְתִּי לִרְא֖וֹת בְּאִבֵּ֣י הַנָּ֑חַל לִרְאוֹת֙ הֲפָֽרְחָ֣ה הַגֶּ֔פֶן הֵנֵ֖צוּ הָרִמֹּנִֽים | 11 | To a garden of nuts I descended to see into the green shoots of the wadi, to see the flourishing of the vine, the pomegranates budded. | 3e | 4C | 16 15 | |
לֹ֣א יָדַ֔עְתִּי נַפְשִׁ֣י שָׂמַ֔תְנִי מַרְכְּב֖וֹת עַמִּי־נָדִֽיב | 12 | B | I did not know myself. She set me up, from the chariots of my people, as a prince. | 3e | 4B | 15 |
For there is a language of flowers
for flowers are peculiarly, the poetry of Christ (Christopher Smart)
א ב ג ד ה ו ז ח ט י כ ל מ נ ס ע פ צ ק ר ש ת
Wednesday, 19 April 2017
Song 6
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment