Song of Songs · Chapter 2
Peshitta OT
17 verses
1
ܐܝܟ ܫܘܫܢܬ ܫܪܘܝܢܐ ܫܘܫܢܬ ܥܘܡܩܐ
ewmq' shwshnth shrwyn' shwshnth 'yk
I am a rose of Sharon, a lily of the valleys.
2
ܐܝܟ ܫܘ̈ܫܢܐ ܒܝܢ̈ܬ ܟܘ̈ܒܐ ܗܟܢܐ ܩܪ̈ܝܒܬܝ ܒܝܢ̈ܬ ܒܢ̈ܬܐ
bnth' bynth qrybthy hkn' kwb' bynth shwshn' 'yk
As a lily among thorns, so is my love among the daughters.
3
ܐܝܟ ܚܙܘܪܐ ܒܩܝ̈ܣܐ ܕܥܒܐ ܗܟܢܐ ܕܕܝ ܒܝ̈ܢܬ ܒܢܝ̈ܐ ܒܛܠܠܗ ܐܬܪܓܪܓܬ ܘܝܬܒܬ ܦܐܪܗ ܚܠܐ ܠܚܟܝ
lkhky khl' p'rh wythbth 'thrgrgth bTllh bny' bynth ddy hkn' deb' bqys' khzwr' 'yk
As the apple tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his shadow with great delight, his fruit was sweet to my taste.
4
ܐܥܠܘܢܝ ܠܒܝܬ ܚܡܪܐ ܛܟܣܘ ܥܠܝ ܪܚܡܬܐ
rkhmth' ely Tksw khmr' lbyth 'elwny
He brought me to the banquet hall. His banner over me is love.
5
ܣܡܘܢܝ ܒܦܘܢ̈ܩܐ ܐܟܪܟܘܢܝ ܒܚܙܘܪ̈ܐ ܡܛܠ ܕܟܪܝܗܬ ܪܚܡܬܐ ܐܢܐ
'n' rkhmth' dkryhth mTl bkhzwr' 'krkwny bpwnq' smwny
Strengthen me with raisins, refresh me with apples; for I am faint with love.
6
ܣܡܠܗ ܬܚܝܬ ܪܝܫܝ ܘܝܡܝܢܗ ܬܥܦܩܢܝ
thepqny wymynh ryshy thkhyth smlh
His left hand is under my head. His right hand embraces me.
7
ܐܘܡ̈ܝܬܟܝܢ ܒܢ̈ܬ ܐܘܪܫܠܡ ܒܛܒ̈ܝܐ ܐܘ ܒ̈ܥܘܙܝܠܐ ܕܚܩܠܐ ܐܢ ܬܥܝܪ̈ܢ ܘܐܢ ܬܥܝܪ̈ܢ ܝܬ ܪܚܡܬܐ ܥܕܡܐ ܕܬܨܒܐ
dthtsb' edm' rkhmth' yth theyrn w'n theyrn 'n dkhql' bewzyl' 'w bTby' 'wrshlm bnth 'wmythkyn
I adjure you, daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, or by the hinds of the field, that you not stir up, nor awaken love, until it so desires.
8
ܩܠܗ ܕܕܕܝ ܗܐ ܗܢܐ ܕܐܬܐ ܡܫܘܪ ܥܠ ܛܘܪ̈ܐ ܡܩܝܙ ܥܠ ܪ̈ܡܬܐ
rmth' el mqyz Twr' el mshwr d'th' hn' h' dddy qlh
The voice of my beloved! Behold, he comes, leaping on the mountains, skipping on the hills.
9
ܕܡ̇ܐ ܕܕܝ ܠܛܒܝܐ ܐܘ ܠܥܘܙܝܠܐ ܕܐܝ̈ܠܐ ܗܐ ܗܘ ܩܐܡ ܒܣܬܪ ܐܣܬܢ ܡܕܝܩ ܡܢ ܟܘ̈ܐ ܡܪܟܢ ܡܢ ܨܝܪ̈ܬܐ
tsyrth' mn mrkn kw' mn mdyq 'sthn bsthr q'm hw h' d'yl' lewzyl' 'w lTby' ddy dm'
My beloved is like a roe or a young deer. Behold, he stands behind our wall! He looks in at the windows. He glances through the lattice.
10
ܥܢܐ ܕܕܝ ܘܐܡܪ ܠܝ ܩܘܡܝ ܠܟܝ ܩܪܝܒܬܝ̈ ܫܦܝܪܬܝ̈ ܘܙܠ ܠܟܝ
lky wzl shpyrthy qrybthy lky qwmy ly w'mr ddy en'
My beloved spoke, and said to me, “Rise up, my love, my beautiful one, and come away.
11
ܡܛܠ ܕܗܐ ܣܬܘܐ ܥܒܪ ܡܛܪܐ ܥܒܪ ܘܐܙܠ ܠܗ
lh w'zl ebr mTr' ebr sthw' dh' mTl
For behold, the winter is past. The rain is over and gone.
12
ܗ̈ܒܒܐ ܐܬܚܙܝܘ ܒܐܪܥܐ ܙܒܢܐ ܕܟܣܚܐ ܡܛܐ ܘܩܠܐ ܕܫܘܦܢܝܢܐ ܐܫܬܡܥ ܒܐܬܪܢ
b'thrn 'shthme dshwpnyn' wql' mT' dkskh' zbn' b're' 'thkhzyw hbb'
The flowers appear on the earth. The time of the singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land.
13
ܬܬܐ ܝܗܒܬ ܦܩܘ̈ܥܝܗ̇ ܓܘ̈ܦܢܐ ܘܣܡܕܪ̈ܐ ܝܗܒܘ ܪܝܚܐ ܩܘܡܝ ܠܟܝ ܫܦܝܪ̈ܬܝ̈ ܩܪ̈ܝܒܬܝ̈ ܘܬܝ ܠܟܝ
lky wthy qrybthy shpyrthy lky qwmy rykh' yhbw wsmdr' gwpn' pqweyh yhbth thth'
The fig tree ripens her green figs. The vines are in blossom. They give out their fragrance. Arise, my love, my beautiful one, and come away.”
14
ܝܘܢܝ̈ ܒܚܘܠܒܐ ܕܫܘܥܐ ܒܣܬܪܐ ܕܣܝܓܐ ܚܘܐܝܢܝ ܚܙܘܟܝ ܘܐܫܡܥܝܢܝ ܩܠܟܝ ܡܛܠ ܕܩܠܟܝ ܒܣܝܡ ܘܚܙܘܟܝ ܝܐܐ
y'' wkhzwky bsym dqlky mTl qlky w'shmeyny khzwky khw'yny dsyg' bsthr' dshwe' bkhwlb' ywny
My dove in the clefts of the rock, in the hiding places of the mountainside, let me see your face. Let me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet and your face is lovely.
15
ܐܚܘܕ ܠܢ ܬ̈ܥܠܐ ܬ̈ܥܠܐ ܕܩ̈ܕܩܐ ܡܚ̈ܒܠܝ ܟܪ̈ܡܐ ܘܟܪ̈ܡܝܢ ܕܣܡܕܪ̈ܐ
dsmdr' wkrmyn krm' mkhbly dqdq' thel' thel' ln 'khwd
Catch for us the foxes, the little foxes that plunder the vineyards; for our vineyards are in blossom.
16
ܕܕܝ ܠܝ ܘܐܢܐ ܠܗ ܕܪܥܐ ܒܫ̈ܘܫܢܐ
bshwshn' dre' lh w'n' ly ddy
My beloved is mine, and I am his. He browses among the lilies.