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 beloved gone, Thou fairest among women? Whither is thy beloved turned aside? 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 beloved is gone down into his garden, to the beds of spices, To feed 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 beloved's, and my beloved is mine: He feedeth [his flock] among the lilies.
4 Du er fager, min Veninde, som Tirza, yndig som Jerusalem, frygtelig som Hære under Banner.
Thou art fair, my love, as Tirzah, Comely as Jerusalem, Terrible as troops with banners:
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 me, For they overcome me. Thy hair is as a flock of goats On the slopes of Gilead.
6 dine Tænder som en Faareflok, der kommer fra Bad, som alle har Tvillinger, intet er uden Lam;
Thy teeth are like a flock of sheep Which go up from the washing; Which have all borne twins, And none is barren among them.
7 din Tinding er et bristet Granatæble bag ved dit Slør.
As a piece of a pomegranate are thy temples Behind thy veil.
8 Dronningernes Tal er tresindstyve, Medhustruernes firsindstyve, paa Terner er der ej Tal.
There are threescore queens, and fourscore concubines, And virgins 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, mine undefiled, is but one; She is the only one of her mother, She is the choice one of her that bore her. The daughters saw her, and they called her blessed; The queens and the concubines, and they praised her.
10 Hvo er hun, der titter frem som Morgenrøden, fager som Maanen, skær som Solen, frygtelig som Hære under Banner?
Who is she that looketh forth as the dawn, Fair as the moon, clear as the sun, Terrible as troops with banners?
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 into the garden of nuts, To see the verdure of the valley, To see whether the vine budded, Whether the pomegranates blossomed.
12 Før jeg vidste af det, satte min Sjæl mig paa mit ædle Folks Vogne.
Before I was aware, My soul set me upon the chariots of my willing people.
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 Shulamite; Return, return, that we may look upon thee. — What would ye look upon in the Shulamite? — As it were the dance of two camps.
