Højsangen 5
1 Jeg er kommen, min Søster, o Brud! i min Have, jeg har plukket min Myrra tillige med min duftende Urt, jeg har ædt min Honningkage tillige med min Honning, jeg har drukket min Vin tillige med min Mælk; æder, I Venner! drikker og bliver drukne, I elskelige!
Let my kinsman come down into his garden, and eat the fruit of his choice berries. I am come into my garden, my sister, [my] spouse: I have gathered my myrrh with my spices; I have eaten my bread with my honey; I have drunk my wine with my milk. Eat, O friends, and drink; yea, brethren, drink abundantly.
2 Jeg sov, men mit Hjerte vaagede. Min elskedes Røst! Han banker: Luk op for mig, min Søster! min Veninde! min Due! min rene! thi mit Hoved er fuldt af Dug, mine Lokker af Nattens Draaber. —
I sleep, but my heart is awake: the voice of my kinsman knocks at the door, [saying], Open, open to me, my companion, my sister, my dove, my perfect one: for my head is filled with dew, and my locks with the drops of the night.
3 Jeg har afført mig min Kjortel; hvorledes skal jeg iføre mig den igen? jeg har toet mine Fødder; hvorledes skal jeg gøre dem urene igen?
I have put off my coat; how shall I put it on? I have washed my feet, how shall I defile them?
4 Min elskede stak sin Haand igennem Aabningen, og mit Indre blev heftigt bevæget for hans Skyld.
My kinsman put forth his hand by the hole [of the door], and my belly moved for him.
5 Da stod jeg op for at lukke op for min elskede; og mine Hænder dryppede med Myrra og mine Fingre med flydende Myrra over Haandfangene paa Laasen.
I rose up to open to my kinsman; my hands dropped myrrh, my fingers choice myrrh, on the handles of the lock.
6 Jeg lukkede op for min elskede, men min elskede havde vendt sig bort, han var gaaet forbi; jeg var gaaet ud af mig selv, da han talte; jeg ledte efter ham, men fandt ham ikke; jeg kaldte ad ham, men han svarede mig ikke.
I opened to my kinsman; my kinsman was gone: my soul failed at his speech: I sought him, but found him not; I called him, but he answered me not.
7 Vægterne, som gaa omkring i Staden, fandt mig, de sloge mig, de saarede mig; Vægterne paa Murene toge mit Slør fra mig.
The watchman that go their rounds in the city found me, they smote me, they wounded me; the keepers of the walls took away my veil from me.
8 Jeg besværger eder, I Jerusalems Døtre! om I finde min elskede, hvad skulle I forkynde ham? At jeg er syg af Kærlighed.
I have charged you, O daughters of Jerusalem, by the powers and the virtues of the field: if ye should find my kinsman, what are ye to say to him? That I am wounded with love.
9 Hvad er din elskede fremfor en andens elskede, du dejligste iblandt Kvinderne? hvad er din elskede fremfor en andens elskede, at du har saaledes besvoret os?
What is thy kinsman [more] than [another] kinsman, O thou beautiful among women? what is thy kinsman [more] than [another] kinsman, that thou hast so charged us?
10 Min elskede er hvid og rød, udmærket fremfor ti Tusinde.
My kinsman is white and ruddy, chosen out from myriads.
11 Hans Hoved er fineste Guld; hans Lokker ere krusede, sorte som Ravnen.
His head is [as] very fine gold, his locks are flowing, black as a raven.
12 Hans Øjne ere som Duer ved Vandbække, badende sig i Mælk, siddende ved fulde Strømme.
His eyes are as doves, by the pools of waters, washed with milk, sitting by the pools.
13 Hans Kinder ere som duftende Blomsterbede, Taarne af vellugtende Urter; hans Læber ere som Lillier, der dryppe med flydende Myrra;
His cheeks are as bowls of spices pouring forth perfumes: his lips are lilies, dropping choice myrrh.
14 hans Hænder ere Guldringe, besatte med Krysoliter; hans Bug er skinnende Elfenben, belagt med Safirer;
His hands are as turned gold set with beryl: his belly is an ivory tablet on a sapphire stone.
15 hans Ben ere Marmorstøtter, grundfæstede i Fodstykker af Guld; hans Skikkelse er som Libanon, udvalgt som Cedertræerne;
His legs are marble pillars set on golden sockets: his form is as Libanus, choice as the cedars.
16 hans Gane er Sødhed, og han er lutter Yndighed; dette er min elskede, og dette er min Ven, I Jerusalems Døtre!
His throat is most sweet, and altogether desirable. This is my kinsman, and this is my companion, O daughters of Jerusalem.
