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!
[HE] I have entered my garden, my sister, bride, I have plucked my myrrh, with my balsam, I have eaten the honey of my thicket, I have drunk my wine, with my milk: —Eat ye, O friends, Drink, yea drink abundantly, ye beloved!
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. —
[SHE] I, was sleeping, but, my heart, was awake, —The voice of my beloved—knocking! Open to me, my sister, my fair one, my dove, my perfect one, for, my head, is filled with dew, my locks, with the moisture 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 tunic, oh how shall I put it on? I have bathed my feet, oh how shall I soil them?
4 Min elskede stak sin Haand igennem Aabningen, og mit Indre blev heftigt bevæget for hans Skyld.
My beloved, thrust in his hand, at the window, and, my feelings, were deeply 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 myself, arose, to open to my beloved, —and, my hands, dripped with myrrh, and, my fingers, with myrrh distilling, upon the handles of the bolt.
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 myself, opened to my beloved, but, my beloved, had turned away, had passed on, —My soul, had gone out when he spake, I sought him, but found him not, I called him, but he answered 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 watchmen who were going round in the city, found me, they smote me, wounded me, —The watchmen of the walls, took away my cloak from off 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 adjure you, ye daughters of Jerusalem, —If ye find my beloved, what will ye tell him? That, sick with love, I am.
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?
[DAUGHTERS OF JERUSALEM] What is thy beloved more than any other beloved, thou most beautiful among women? What is thy beloved more than any other beloved, that, thus, thou hast adjured us?
10 Min elskede er hvid og rød, udmærket fremfor ti Tusinde.
[SHE.] My beloved, is white and ruddy, conspicuous beyond ten thousand:
11 Hans Hoved er fineste Guld; hans Lokker ere krusede, sorte som Ravnen.
His head, is pure gold, —his locks, are bushy, black as a raven;
12 Hans Øjne ere som Duer ved Vandbække, badende sig i Mælk, siddende ved fulde Strømme.
His eyes, like doves, by the channels of water, —bathing in milk, set as gems in a ring:
13 Hans Kinder ere som duftende Blomsterbede, Taarne af vellugtende Urter; hans Læber ere som Lillier, der dryppe med flydende Myrra;
His cheeks, like a raised bed of balsam, growing plants of perfume, —His lips, lilies, dripping with myrrh distilling:
14 hans Hænder ere Guldringe, besatte med Krysoliter; hans Bug er skinnende Elfenben, belagt med Safirer;
His hands, cylinders of gold, set with topaz, —His body, wrought work of ivory, covered with sapphires:
15 hans Ben ere Marmorstøtter, grundfæstede i Fodstykker af Guld; hans Skikkelse er som Libanon, udvalgt som Cedertræerne;
His legs, pillars of white marble, founded on sockets of gold, —His form, like Lebanon, choice as cedars:
16 hans Gane er Sødhed, og han er lutter Yndighed; dette er min elskede, og dette er min Ven, I Jerusalems Døtre!
His mouth, most sweet, yea, altogether, he is delightful, —This, is my beloved, yea, this, is my dear one, ye daughters of Jerusalem.
