From Aram, Balak made me come,
the King of Moab,
from the Eastern Mountains:
"Come, curse Jacob for me,
come, prophesy against Israel."
How shall I curse if God does not let me?
How shall I prophesy if God does not want it?
From the top of these crags I see them,
from the top of this peak I observe them:
this is a people different from all nations!
How beautiful are your tents,
how beautiful, O Israel!
How beautiful are your tents,
how beautiful, O Israel!
La la la la…
Who shall count your multitudes?
Jacob, O Jacob,
Jacob, O Jacob?
How beautiful are your tents…
"But what are you doing?
You are blessing them!
Come see from another place,
maybe from there God will curse them."
"Listen, son of Zippor,
hear me, King Balak.
God is not a man
who speaks and then repents.
A star is rising from Jacob;
I hear acclamations for a King,
God, God is his father:
he crouches like a lion,
he lies down like a lioness,
no one will make him rise."
How beautiful are your tents…
"Let my death be
like the death of your Just One,
let my life be where he is."
How beautiful are your tents...

There is a time for everything,
every action has its moment under heaven.
A time for being born, a time for dying,
a time for sowing, a time for reaping;
a time for killing, a time for healing,
a time for destruction, a time for rebuilding.
A time to throw stones away, a time to gather them,
a time to embrace, a time to refuse.
A time for searching, a time for losing,
a time for keeping, a time for giving:
a time for tearing, a time for mending,
a time for speaking, a time for silence.
A time for loving, a time for hating,
a time for war, a time for peace.
What does a man gain from all his efforts?
What does he profit from all his labour?
What God has done to the son of man
is truly beautiful and comes at the right time.
He has placed in man's heart the sense of eternity,
but man cannot see the whole of God’s plan.
I know there is no happiness for man,
but to enjoy the fruits of his labour;
what he eats and drinks in his life,
is nothing but a gift from the Lord.
Nothing can be added, nothing taken away,
from what the Father had already ordained
at the beginning of time.

Hail, Queen of Heaven,
Lady, Lady of Angels,
hail, Root,
hail, Door.
You, you, you,
opened the door to our light.
Rejoice, Virgin Mary,
of all women, the most beautiful.
Hail eternal Handmaid,
pray to Christ for us.
Hail eternal Handmaid,
pray to Christ for us.
Ee … ee … ee …
hail, Root,
hail, Door.
You, you, you,
opened the door to our light.
Rejoice, Virgin Mary…

You are beautiful, the most beautiful
of Adam’s sons, of Adam’s sons.
Grace is on your lips,
You are blessed, the blessed one for ever.
Eres hermoso, el más hermoso
de los hijos de Adán, de los hijos de Adán.
La gracia está en tus labios,
eres bendito, el bendito para siempre.
Gird your sword at your side, Valiant One
and march on in glory and splendour,
Ride on in the cause of truth, meekness and justice,
Stretch your bow,
lending terror to your right hand;
your arrows are sharp,
the nations have been subjected to you.
You are beautiful...
From the palaces of ivory
the zithers sing for you,
daughters of kings are your favoured ones,
at your right hand stands the Queen in gold of Ophir,
at your right hand stands the Queen in gold of Ophir.
You are beautiful...
Listen, O daughter and see, listen to me,
forget your own people and your father’s house.
And the king will be conquered by your beauty.
He is your Lord, give yourself to him!
and instead of fathers, you will have sons,
whom you will make princes over the earth.
You are beautiful...
Eres hermoso, el más hermoso…

My beloved is for me
a rose of Sharon,
a lily of the valleys.
My beloved is for me
the perfume of myrrh,
as he rests on my breast.
My beloved is for me
as a lily among the thistles,
so is my beloved among the maidens.
My beloved is for me
a cluster of henna flowers
among the vines of En-gedi.
How beautiful are you, my love,
how beautiful, how beautiful!
Your eyes are doves,
your eyes are doves.
How beautiful are you, my beloved,
how delightful, how delightful!
Even our bed is verdant.
Even our bed is verdant.
As an apple tree among the trees of the forest,
so is my beloved,
my beloved among the young men.
In his shade, for which I longed, I am seated
and sweet is his fruit,
how sweet it is to my taste!
Into the wine cellar he has taken me
and his banner over me is love:
Into the banqueting hall he has led me
and his banner over me is love.
His left arm is under my head
and his right arm embraces me.
I implore you, daughters of Jerusalem,
do not rouse nor wake my beloved,
do not rouse nor wake my beloved.

You are beautiful, my beloved, like Tirzah,
as beautiful as Jerusalem,
Jerusalem, Jerusalem,
Jerusalem, Jerusalem.
How beautiful are your feet in their sandals,
daughter of princes!
The curve of your hips,
the work of the hands of an artist;
your navel is like a rounded bowl;
your neck, like a tower of ivory;
your eyes, like the pools of Heshbon;
your head crowns you like Mount Carmel;
your hair is as dark as purple;
a king is held captive in your tresses.
You are beautiful, my beloved, like Tirzah,
as beautiful as Jerusalem,
Jerusalem, Jerusalem,
Jerusalem, Jerusalem.
Who is she who rises like the dawn,
as beautiful as the moon, resplendent like the sun?
How beautiful you are, O my love,
how beautiful, my delight,
as beautiful as Jerusalem, as beautiful as Jerusalem.
You are beautiful, my beloved, like Tirzah,
as beautiful as Jerusalem,
Jerusalem, Jerusalem,
Jerusalem, Jerusalem.
Ay! Jerusalem, Jerusalem.

You stole my heart,
you stole my heart,
my sister, my bride,
you stole, you stole, my heart.
How beautiful your loves,
how beautiful your loves!
The fragrance of your perfumes
more than all the balsams of love.
Honey flows from your lips,
my bride, my sister,
honey and milk are under your tongue.
The fragrance of your garments
is the fragrance of Lebanon;
my sister, my bride,
tastier than wine are your loves.
A garden enclosed are you, sister of mine,
a sealed fountain, bride of mine!
Your fruits a paradise of pomegranates,
of nard and saffron, of myrrh and aloes
Awake wind, rise Auster, and come!
Blow in my garden
that it may release its scents,
and my beloved may enter my garden
and delight in its exquisite fruits.
I have already entered my garden,
my bride,
I have eaten my honey in its comb,
I have drunk my wine and my milk.
Friends, come! Drink, O my dear ones,
and get drunk!
You stole my heart…