1 WYC Douytir of the prince, thi goyngis ben ful faire in schoon; the ioyncturis of thi heppis ben as brochis, that ben maad bi the hond of a crafti man. BSB BSB: How beautiful are your sandaled feet, O daughter of the prince! The curves of your thighs are like jewels, the handiwork of a master.
2 WYC Thi nawle is as a round cuppe, and wel formed, that hath neuere nede to drynkis; thi wombe is as an heep of whete, biset aboute with lilies. BSB BSB: Your navel is a rounded goblet; it never lacks blended wine. Your waist is a mound of wheat encircled by the lilies.
3 WYC Thi twei teetis ben as twei kidis, twynnes of a capret. BSB BSB: Your breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle.
4 WYC Thi necke is as a tour of yuer; thin iyen ben as cisternes in Esebon, that ben in the yate of the douyter of multitude; thi nose is as the tour of Liban, that biholdith ayens Damask. BSB BSB: Your neck is like a tower made of ivory; your eyes are like the pools of Heshbon by the gate of Bath-rabbim; your nose is like the tower of Lebanon, facing toward Damascus.
5 WYC Thin heed is as Carmele; and the heeres of thin heed ben as the kyngis purpur, ioyned to trowyis. BSB BSB: Your head crowns you like Mount Carmel, the hair of your head like purple threads; the king is captured in your tresses.
6 WYC Dereworthe spousesse, thou art ful fair, and ful schappli in delices. BSB BSB: How fair and pleasant you are, O love, with your delights!
7 WYC Thi stature is licned to a palm tree, and thi tetis to clustris of grapis. BSB BSB: Your stature is like a palm tree; your breasts are clusters of fruit.
8 WYC I seide, Y schal stie in to a palm tree, and Y schal take the fruytis therof. And thi tetis schulen be as the clustris of grapis of a vyner; and the odour of thi mouth as the odour of pumgranatis; BSB BSB: I said, “I will climb the palm tree; I will take hold of its fruit.” May your breasts be like clusters of the vine, the fragrance of your breath like apples,
9 WYC thi throte schal be as beste wyn. Worthi to my derlyng for to drynke, and to hise lippis and teeth to chewe. BSB BSB: and your mouth like the finest wine. May it flow smoothly to my beloved, gliding gently over lips and teeth.
10 WYC Y schal cleue by loue to my derlyng, and his turnyng schal be to me. BSB BSB: I belong to my beloved, and his desire is for me.
11 WYC Come thou, my derlyng, go we out in to the feeld; dwelle we togidere in townes. BSB BSB: Come, my beloved, let us go to the countryside; let us spend the night among the wildflowers.
12 WYC Ryse we eerli to the vyner; se we, if the vyner hath flourid, if the flouris bryngen forth fruytis, if pumgranatis han flourid; there I schal yyue to thee my tetis. BSB BSB: Let us go early to the vineyards to see if the vine has budded, if the blossom has opened, if the pomegranates are in bloom—there I will give you my love.
13 WYC Mandrogoris han youe her odour in oure yatis; my derlyng, Y haue kept to thee alle applis, new and elde. BSB BSB: The mandrakes send forth a fragrance, and at our door is every delicacy, new as well as old, that I have treasured up for you, my beloved.
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