Thursday, October 28, 2010

Lovers and Friends

בָּ֣אתִי לְגַנִּי֮ אֲחֹתִ֣י כַלָּה֒ אָרִ֤יתִי מֹורִי֙ עִם־בְּשָׂמִ֔י אָכַ֤לְתִּי יַעְרִי֙ עִם־דִּבְשִׁ֔י שָׁתִ֥יתִי יֵינִ֖י עִם־חֲלָבִ֑י אִכְל֣וּ רֵעִ֔ים שְׁת֥וּ וְשִׁכְר֖וּ דֹּודִֽים׃


I have come into my garden, my sister, my bride;
I have gathered my myrrh with my spice.
I have eaten my honeycomb and my honey;
I have drunk my wine and my milk.
Eat, O friends, and drink;
drink your fill, O lovers.


אֲנִ֥י יְשֵׁנָ֖ה וְלִבִּ֣י עֵ֑ר קֹ֣ול ׀ דֹּודִ֣י דֹופֵ֗ק פִּתְחִי־לִ֞י אֲחֹתִ֤י רַעְיָתִי֙ יֹונָתִ֣י תַמָּתִ֔י שֶׁרֹּאשִׁי֙ נִמְלָא־טָ֔ל קְוֻּצֹּותַ֖י רְסִ֥יסֵי לָֽיְלָה׃

I slept but my heart was awake.
Listen! My lover is knocking:
"Open to me, my sister, my darling,
my dove, my flawless one.
My head is drenched with dew,
my hair with the dampness of the night."


פָּשַׁ֙טְתִּי֙ אֶת־כֻּתָּנְתִּ֔י אֵיכָ֖כָה אֶלְבָּשֶׁ֑נָּה רָחַ֥צְתִּי אֶת־רַגְלַ֖י אֵיכָ֥כָה אֲטַנְּפֵֽם׃

I have taken off my robe—
must I put it on again?
I have washed my feet—
must I soil them again?


 דֹּודִ֗י שָׁלַ֤ח יָדֹו֙ מִן־הַחֹ֔ר וּמֵעַ֖י הָמ֥וּ עָלָֽיו׃

My lover thrust his hand through the latch-opening;
my heart began to pound for him.


 קַ֥מְתִּֽי אֲנִ֖י לִפְתֹּ֣חַ לְדֹודִ֑י וְיָדַ֣י נָֽטְפוּ־מֹ֗ור וְאֶצְבְּעֹתַי֙ מֹ֣ור עֹבֵ֔ר עַ֖ל כַּפֹּ֥ות הַמַּנְעֽוּל׃

I arose to open for my lover,
and my hands dripped with myrrh,
my fingers with flowing myrrh,
on the handles of the lock.


 פָּתַ֤חְתִּֽי אֲנִי֙ לְדֹודִ֔י וְדֹודִ֖י חָמַ֣ק עָבָ֑ר נַפְשִׁי֙ יָֽצְאָ֣ה בְדַבְּרֹ֔ו בִּקַּשְׁתִּ֙יהוּ֙ וְלֹ֣א מְצָאתִ֔יהוּ קְרָאתִ֖יו וְלֹ֥א עָנָֽנִי׃

I opened for my lover,
but my lover had left; he was gone.
My heart sank at his departure
I looked for him but did not find him.
I called him but he did not answer.


 מְצָאֻ֧נִי הַשֹּׁמְרִ֛ים הַסֹּבְבִ֥ים בָּעִ֖יר הִכּ֣וּנִי פְצָע֑וּנִי נָשְׂא֤וּ אֶת־רְדִידִי֙ מֵֽעָלַ֔י שֹׁמְרֵ֖י הַחֹמֹֽות׃

The watchmen found me
as they made their rounds in the city.
They beat me, they bruised me;
they took away my cloak,
those watchmen of the walls!


 הִשְׁבַּ֥עְתִּי אֶתְכֶ֖ם בְּנֹ֣ות יְרוּשָׁלִָ֑ם אִֽם־תִּמְצְאוּ֙ אֶת־דֹּודִ֔י מַה־תַּגִּ֣ידוּ לֹ֔ו שֶׁחֹולַ֥ת אַהֲבָ֖ה אָֽנִי׃

O daughters of Jerusalem, I charge you—
if you find my lover,
what will you tell him?
Tell him I am faint with love.


 מַה־דֹּודֵ֣ךְ מִדֹּ֔וד הַיָּפָ֖ה בַּנָּשִׁ֑ים מַה־דֹּודֵ֣ךְ מִדֹּ֔וד שֶׁכָּ֖כָה הִשְׁבַּעְתָּֽנוּ׃

How is your beloved better than others,
most beautiful of women?
How is your beloved better than others,
that you charge us so?


 דֹּודִ֥י צַח֙ וְאָדֹ֔ום דָּג֖וּל מֵרְבָבָֽה׃
My lover is radiant and ruddy,
outstanding among ten thousand.


 רֹאשֹׁ֖ו כֶּ֣תֶם פָּ֑ז קְוּצֹּותָיו֙ תַּלְתַּלִּ֔ים שְׁחֹרֹ֖ות כָּעֹורֵֽב׃

His head is purest gold;
his hair is wavy
and black as a raven.


 עֵינָ֕יו כְּיֹונִ֖ים עַל־אֲפִ֣יקֵי מָ֑יִם רֹֽחֲצֹות֙ בֶּֽחָלָ֔ב יֹשְׁבֹ֖ות עַל־מִלֵּֽאת׃

His eyes are like doves
by the water streams,
washed in milk,
mounted like jewels.


 לְחָיָו֙ כַּעֲרוּגַ֣ת הַבֹּ֔שֶׂם מִגְדְּלֹ֖ות מֶרְקָחִ֑ים שִׂפְתֹותָיו֙ שֹֽׁושַׁנִּ֔ים נֹטְפֹ֖ות מֹ֥ור עֹבֵֽר׃

His cheeks are like beds of spice
yielding perfume.
His lips are like lilies
dripping with myrrh


 יָדָיו֙ גְּלִילֵ֣י זָהָ֔ב מְמֻלָּאִ֖ים בַּתַּרְשִׁ֑ישׁ מֵעָיו֙ עֶ֣שֶׁת שֵׁ֔ן מְעֻלֶּ֖פֶת סַפִּירִֽים׃

His arms are rods of gold
set with chrysolite.
His body is like polished ivory
decorated with sapphires


 שֹׁוקָיו֙ עַמּ֣וּדֵי שֵׁ֔שׁ מְיֻסָּדִ֖ים עַל־אַדְנֵי־פָ֑ז מַרְאֵ֙הוּ֙ כַּלְּבָנֹ֔ון בָּח֖וּר כָּאֲרָזִֽים׃

His legs are pillars of marble
set on bases of pure gold.
His appearance is like Lebanon,
choice as its cedars.


 חִכֹּו֙ מַֽמְתַקִּ֔ים וְכֻלֹּ֖ו מַחֲמַדִּ֑ים זֶ֤ה דֹודִי֙ וְזֶ֣ה רֵעִ֔י בְּנֹ֖ות יְרוּשָׁלִָֽם׃

His mouth is sweetness itself;
he is altogether lovely.
This is my lover, this my friend,
O daughters of Jerusalem.


Song of Solomon V Solomon, son of David 931BC.

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