Højsangen 2
1 Jeg er Sarons Rose, Dalenes Lilje.
I am a flower of the plain, a lily of the valleys.
2 Som en Lilje midt iblandt Torne er min Veninde blandt Piger.
As a lily amongst thorns, so is my companion amongst the daughters.
3 Som et Æbletræ blandt Skovens Træer er min Ven blandt unge Mænd. I hans Skygge har jeg Lyst til at sidde, hans Frugt er sød for min Gane.
As the apple amongst the trees of the wood, so is my kinsman amongst the sons. I desired his shadow, and sat down, and his fruit was sweet in my throat.
4 Til en Vinhal bragte han mig, hvor Mærket over mig er Kærlighed.
Bring me into the wine house; set love before me.
5 Styrk mig med Rosinkager, kvæg mig med Æbler, thi jeg er syg af Kærlighed.
Strengthen me with perfumes, stay me with apples: for I [am] wounded with love.
6 Hans venstre er under mit Hoved, hans højre tager mig i Favn.
His left [hand shall be] under my head, and his right hand shall embrace me.
7 Jeg besværger eder, Jerusalems Døtre, ved Gazeller og Markens Hjorte: Gør ikke Kærligheden Uro, væk den ikke, før den ønsker det selv!
I have charged you, you daughters of Jerusalem, by the powers and by the virtues of the field, that you do not rouse or wake [my] love, until he please.
8 Hør! Der er min Ven! Ja se, der kommer han i Løb over Bjergene, i Spring over Højene.
The voice of my kinsman! behold, he comes leaping over the mountains, bounding over the hills.
9 Min Ven er som en Gazel, han er som den unge Hjort. Se, nu staar han alt bag vor Mur. Han ser gennem Vinduet, kigger gennem Gitteret.
My kinsman is like a roe or a young hart on the mountains of Baethel: behold, he is behind our wall, looking through the windows, peeping through the lattices.
10 Min Ven stemmer i og siger saa til mig: Staa op, min Veninde, du fagre, kom!
My kinsman answers, and says to me, Rise up, come, my companion, my fair one, my dove.
11 Thi nu er Vinteren omme, Regntiden svandt, for hen,
For, behold, the winter is past, the rain is gone, it has departed.
12 Blomster ses i Landet, Sangens Tid er kommet, Turtelduens Kurren høres i vort Land;
The flowers are seen in the land; the time of pruning has arrived; the voice of the turtle-dove has been heard in our land.
13 Figentræets Smaafrugter svulmer, Vinstokken blomstrer, udspreder Duft. Staa op, min Veninde, du fagre, kom,
The fig tree has put forth its young figs, the vines put forth the tender grape, they yield a smell: arise, come, my companion, my fair one, my dove; yes, come.
14 min Due i Fjeldets Kløfter, i Bjergvæggens Skjul! Lad mig skue din Skikkelse, høre din Røst, thi sød er din Røst og din Skikkelse yndig.
[You are] my dove, in the shelter of the rock, near the wall: show me your face, and cause me to hear your voice; for your voice is sweet, and your countenance is beautiful.
15 Fang os de Ræve, de Ræve smaa, som hærger Vinen, vor blomstrende Vin!
Take us the little foxes that spoil the vines: for our vines put forth tender grapes.
16 Min Ven er min, og jeg er hans, som vogter blandt Liljer;
My kinsman is mine, and I am his: he feeds [his flock] amongst the lilies.
17 til Dagen svales og Skyggerne længes, kom hid, min Ven, og vær som Gazellen, som den unge Hjort paa duftende Bjerge!
Until the day dawn, and the shadows depart, turn, my kinsman, be you like to a roe or young hart on the mountains of the ravines.
