Parallel
Song of Solomon 4
Louis Segond 1910 · Berean Standard Bible
Que tu es belle, mon amie, que tu es belle!
How beautiful you are, my darling—how very beautiful! Your eyes are like doves behind your veil. Your hair is like a flock of goats streaming down Mount Gilead.
Tes dents sont comme un troupeau de brebis tondues,
Your teeth are like a flock of newly shorn sheep coming up from the washing; each has its twin, and not one of them is lost.
Tes lèvres sont comme un fil cramoisi,
Your lips are like a scarlet ribbon, and your mouth is lovely. Your brow behind your veil is like a slice of pomegranate.
Ton cou est comme la tour de David,
Your neck is like the tower of David, built with rows of stones; on it hang a thousand shields, all of them shields of warriors.
Tes deux seins sont comme deux faons,
Your breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle grazing among the lilies.
Avant que le jour se rafraîchisse,
Before the day breaks and the shadows flee, I will make my way to the mountain of myrrh and to the hill of frankincense.
Viens avec moi du Liban, ma fiancée,
Come with me from Lebanon, my bride, come with me from Lebanon! Descend (note: Or Look down) from the peak of Amana, from the summits of Senir and Hermon, from the dens of the lions, from the mountains of the leopards.
Tu me ravis le cœur, ma sœur, ma fiancée,
You have captured my heart, my sister, my bride; you have stolen my heart with one glance of your eyes, with one jewel of your neck.
Que de charmes dans ton amour, ma sœur, ma fiancée!
How delightful is your love, my sister, my bride! Your love is much better than wine, and the fragrance of your perfume than all spices.
Tes lèvres distillent le miel, ma fiancée;
Your lips, my bride, drip sweetness like the honeycomb; honey and milk are under your tongue, and the fragrance of your garments is like the aroma of Lebanon.
Tu es un jardin fermé, ma sœur, ma fiancée,
My sister, my bride, you are a garden locked up, a spring enclosed, a fountain sealed.
Tes jets forment un jardin, où sont des grenadiers,
Your branches are an orchard of pomegranates with the choicest of fruits, with henna and nard,
Le nard et le safran, le roseau aromatique et le cinnamome,
with nard and saffron, with calamus and cinnamon, with every kind of frankincense tree, with myrrh and aloes, with all the finest spices.
Une fontaine des jardins,
You are a garden spring, a well of fresh water (note: Or flowing water or living water) flowing down from Lebanon.
Lève-toi, aquilon! Viens, autan!
Awake, O north wind, and come, O south wind. Breathe on my garden and spread the fragrance of its spices. Let my beloved come into his garden and taste its choicest fruits.