Højsangen 7
1 Hvor skønne er dine Trin i Skoene, du ædelbaarne! Dine Hofters Runding er som Halsbaand, Kunstnerhaands Værk,
Thy steps are beautiful in shoes, O daughter of the prince: the joints of [thy] thighs are like chains, the work of the craftsman.
2 dit Skød som det runde Bæger, ej savne det Vin, dit Liv som en Hvededynge, hegnet af Liljer;
Thy navel is [as] a turned bowl, not wanting liquor; thy belly is [as] a heap of wheat set about with lilies.
3 dit Bryst som to Hjortekalve, Gazelletvillinger,
Thy two breasts are as two twin fawns.
4 din Hals som Elfenbenstaarnet, dine Øjne som Hesjbons Damme ved Bat-Rabbims Port, din Næse som Libanons Taarn, der ser mod Damaskus,
Thy neck is as an ivory tower; thine eyes are as pools in Esebon, by the gates of the daughter of many: thy nose is as the tower of Libanus, looking toward Damascus.
5 Hovedet paa dig som Karmel, dit Hoveds Lokker som Purpur; en Konge er fanget i Garnet.
Thy head upon thee is as Carmel, and the curls of thy hair like scarlet; the king is bound in the galleries.
6 Hvor er du fager og yndig, du elskede, yndefulde!
How beautiful art thou, and how sweet art thou, [my] love!
7 Som Palmen, saa er din Vækst, dit Bryst som Klaser.
This is thy greatness in thy delights: thou wast made like a palm tree, and thy breasts to cluster.
8 Jeg tænker: Jeg vil op i Palmen, gribe fat i dens Stilke; dit Bryst skal være som Vinstokkens Klaser, din Næses Aande som Æbleduft,
I said, I will go up to the palm tree, I will take hold of its high boughs: and now shall thy breasts be as clusters of the vine, and the smell of thy nose of apples;
9 din Gane som ædel Vin, der liflig flyder ind i min Mund, glider over mine Læber og Tænder.
and thy throat as good wine, going well with my kinsman, suiting my lips and teeth.
10 Jeg er min Vens, og til mig staar hans Attraa.
I am my kinsman's, and his desire is toward me.
11 Kom min Ven, vi vil ud paa Landet, blive i Landsbyer Natten over;
Come, my kinsman, let us go forth into the field; let us lodge in the villages.
12 Vingaarde søger vi aarle, vi ser, om Vinstokken skyder, om Knopperne aabnes, Granattræet blomstrer. Der giver jeg dig min Kærlighed.
Let us go early into the vineyards; let us see if the vine has flowered, [if] the blossoms have appeared, if the pomegranates have blossomed; there will I give thee my breasts.
13 Kærlighedsæblerne dufter, for vor Dør er al Slags Frugt, ny og gammel tillige; til dig, min Ven, har jeg gemt dem.
The mandrakes have given a smell, and at our doors [are] all kinds of choice fruits, new and old. O my kinsman, I have kept [them] for thee.
