Højsangen 6
1 Hvor er din Ven gaaet hen, du fagreste blandt Kvinder? Hvor har din Ven vendt sig hen? Vi vil søge ham med dig.
Whither is thy kinsman gone, thou beautiful among women? whither has thy kinsman turned aside? [tell us], and we will seek him with thee.
2 Min Ven gik ned i sin Have, til Balsambedene, for at vogte sin Hjord i Haverne og sanke Liljer.
My kinsman is gone down to his garden, to the beds of spice, to feed [his flock] in the gardens, and to gather lilies.
3 Jeg er min Vens, og min Ven er min, han, som vogter blandt Liljer.
I am my kinsman's, and my kinsman is mine, who feeds among the lilies.
4 Du er fager, min Veninde, som Tirza, yndig som Jerusalem, frygtelig som Hære under Banner.
Thou art fair, my companion, as Pleasure, beautiful as Jerusalem, terrible as [armies] set in array.
5 Vend dine Øjne fra mig, de forvirrer mig saa! Dit Haar er som en Gedeflok, bølgende ned fra Gilead,
Turn away thine eyes from before me, for they have ravished me: thy hair is as flocks of goats which have appeared from Galaad.
6 dine Tænder som en Faareflok, der kommer fra Bad, som alle har Tvillinger, intet er uden Lam;
Thy teeth are as flocks of shorn [sheep], that have gone up from the washing, all of them bearing twins, and there is none barren among them: thy lips are as a thread of scarlet, and thy speech is comely.
7 din Tinding er et bristet Granatæble bag ved dit Slør.
Thy cheek is like the rind of a pomegranate, [being seen] without thy veil.
8 Dronningernes Tal er tresindstyve, Medhustruernes firsindstyve, paa Terner er der ej Tal.
There are sixty queens, and eighty concubines, and maidens without number.
9 Men een er hun, min Due, min rene, hun, sin Moders eneste, hun, sin Moders Kælebarn. Blev hun set af Piger, fik hun Pris, af Dronninger og Medhustruer Hyldest.
My dove, my perfect one is one; she is the [only] one of her mother; she is the choice of her that bore her. The daughters saw her, and the queens will pronounce her blessed, yea, and the concubines, and they will praise her.
10 Hvo er hun, der titter frem som Morgenrøden, fager som Maanen, skær som Solen, frygtelig som Hære under Banner?
Who is this that looks forth as the morning, fair as the moon, choice as the sun, terrible as [armies] set in array?
11 Jeg gik ned i Nøddehaven for at se, hvor det grønnes i Dale, for at se, om Vintræet skød, om Granattræet nu stod i Blomst.
I went down to the garden of nuts, to look at the fruits of the valley, to see if the vine flowered, [if] the pomegranates blossomed.
12 Før jeg vidste af det, satte min Sjæl mig paa mit ædle Folks Vogne.
There I will give thee my breasts: my soul knew [it] not: it made me as the chariots of Aminadab.
13 Vend dig, vend dig, Sulamit, vend dig, vend dig, saa vi kan se dig! »Hvad vil I se paa Sulamit, mens Sværddansen trædes?«
Return, return, O Sunamite; return, return, and we will look at thee. What will ye see in the Sunamite? She comes as bands of armies.
