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The Cantata of Love : A Verse by Verse Reading of The Song of Songs by Arminjon Fr. Blaise

The Cantata of Love : A Verse by Verse Reading of The Song of Songs by Arminjon Fr. Blaise

Author:Arminjon, Fr. Blaise [Arminjon, Fr. Blaise]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ignatius Press
Published: 1988-09-30T16:00:00+00:00


The Summer of the Wedding

THIRD POEM

Chapters 3:6-5:1

THE CHORUS

What is this coming up from the desert

like a column of smoke ,

breathing of myrrh and frankincense

and every perfume the merchant knows ?

See, it is the litter of Solomon .

Around it are sixty champions ,

the flower of the warriors of Israel ;

all of them skilled swordsmen ,

veterans of battle .

Each man has his sword at his side ,

against alarms by night .

King Solomon

has made himself a throne

of wood from Lebanon .

The posts he has made of silver ,

the canopy of gold ,

the seat of purple ;

the back is inlaid with ebony .

Daughters of Zion ,

come and see

King Solomon ,

wearing the diadem with which his mother crowned him

on his wedding day ,

on the day of his heart’s joy .

THE BRIDEGROOM

How beautiful you are, my love ,

how beautiful you are!

Your eyes, behind your veil ,

are doves ;

your hair is like a flock of goats

frisking down the slopes of Gilead .

Your teeth are like a flock of shorn ewes

as they come up from the washing .

Each one has its twin ,

not one unpaired with another .

Your lips are a scarlet thread

and your words enchanting .

Your cheeks, behind your veil ,

are halves of pomegranate .

Your neck is the tower of David

built as a fortress ,

hung around with a thousand bucklers ,

and each the shield of a hero .

Your two breasts are two fawns ,

twins of a gazelle ,

that feed among the lilies .

Before the dawn wind rises ,

before the shadows flee ,

I will go to the mountain of myrrh ,

to the hill of frankincense .

You are wholly beautiful, my love ,

and without a blemish .

Come from Lebanon, my promised bride ,

come from Lebanon, come on your way .

Lower your gaze, from the heights of Amana ,

from the crests of Senir and Hermon ,

the haunt of lions ,

the mountains of leopards .

You ravish my heart ,

my sister, my promised bride ,

you ravish my heart

with a single one of your glances ,

with one single pearl of your necklace .

What spells lie in your love ,

my sister, my promised bride!

How delicious is your love, more delicious than wine!

How fragrant your perfumes ,

more fragrant than all other spices!

Your lips, my promised one ,

distill wild honey .

Honey and milk

are under your tongue ;

and the scent of your garments

is like the scent of Lebanon .

She is a garden enclosed ,

my sister, my promised bride ;

a garden enclosed ,

a sealed fountain .

Your shoots form an orchard of pomegranate trees ,

the rarest essences are yours :

nard and saffron ,

calamus and cinnamon ,

with all the incense-bearing trees ;

myrrh and aloes ,

with the subtlest odors .

Fountain that makes the garden fertile ,

well of living water ,

streams flowing down from Lebanon .

THE BRIDE

Awake, north wind ,

come, wind of the south!

Breathe over my garden ,

to spread its sweet smell around .

Let my Beloved come into his garden ,

let him taste its rarest fruits .

THE BRIDEGROOM

I come into my garden ,

my sister, my promised bride ,

I gather my myrrh and balsam ,

I eat my honey and my honeycomb ,

I drink my wine and my milk .



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