Højsangen 8
1 Oh, var du min Broder, som died min Moders Bryst! Jeg kyssed dig derude, naar vi mødtes, og blev ikke agtet ringe,
Who makes you as a brother to me, Suckling the breasts of my mother? I find you outside, I kiss you, Indeed, they do not despise me,
2 tog dig ind i min Moders Hus, i min Moders Kamre, gav dig krydret Vin at drikke, Granatæblers Most.
I lead you, I bring you into my mother’s house, She teaches me, I cause you to drink of the spiced wine, Of the juice of my pomegranate,
3 Hans venstre under mit Hoved, hans højre tager mig i Favn.
His left hand [is] under my head, And his right embraces me.
4 Jeg besværger eder, Jerusalems Døtre: Gør ikke Kærligheden Uro, væk den ikke, før den ønsker det selv!
I have adjured you, daughters of Jerusalem, How you stir up, And how you wake the love until she pleases!
5 Hvem er hun, der kommer fra Ørkenen, støttet til sin Ven? »Under Æbletræet vækked jeg dig; der nedkom din Moder med dig, der nedkom hun, som dig fødte.«
Who [is] this coming from the wilderness, Hastening herself for her beloved? Under the citron-tree I have awoken you, There your mother pledged you, There she [who] bore you gave a pledge.
6 Læg mig som en Seglring om dit Hjerte, som et Armbaand om din Arm! Thi Kærlighed er stærk som Døden, Nidkærhed haard som Dødsriget; dens Gløder er Brændende Glød, dens Lue er HERRENS Lue. (Sheol h7585)
Set me as a seal on your heart, as a seal on your arm, For strong as death is love, Sharp as Sheol is jealousy, Its burnings [are] burnings of fire, a flame of YAH! (Sheol h7585)
7 Mange Vande kan ikke slukke den, Strømme ej skylle den bort. Gav nogen alt Gods i sit Hus for Kærlighed, hvem vilde agte ham ringe?
Many waters are not able to quench the love, And floods do not wash it away. If one gives all the wealth of his house for love, Treading down—they tread on it.
8 Vi har en lille Søster, som endnu ej har Bryster; hvad gør vi med vor Søster, den Dag hun faar en Bejler?
We have a little sister, and she does not have breasts, What do we do for our sister, In the day that it is told of her?
9 Er hun en Mur, saa bygger vi en Krone af Sølv derpaa, men er hun en Dør, saa spærrer vi den med Cederplanke.
If she is a wall, we build by her a palace of silver. And if she is a door, We fashion by her board-work of cedar.
10 Jeg er en Mur, Mine Bryster Taarne. Da blev jeg i hans Øjne som en, der finder Fred.
I [am] a wall, and my breasts as towers, Then I have been in his eyes as one finding peace.
11 Salomo havde en Vingaard i Ba'al-Hamon, til Vogtere gav han den Vingaard; hver kunne tjene tusind Sekel Sølv paa dens Frugt.
Solomon has a vineyard in Ba‘al-Hamon, He has given the vineyard to keepers, Each brings for its fruit one thousand pieces of silver;
12 Jeg har for mig selv min Vingaard; de tusinde, Salomo, er dine, to hundrede deres, som vogter dens Frugt.
My vineyard—my own—is before me, The one thousand [is] for you, O Solomon. And the two hundred for those keeping its fruit. O dweller in gardens!
13 Du, som bor i Haverne, Vennerne lytter, lad mig høre din Røst!
The companions are attending to your voice, Cause me to hear. Flee, my beloved, and be like to a roe,
14 Fly, min Ven, og vær som en Gazel, som den unge Hjort paa Balsambjerge!
Or to a young one of the harts on mountains of spices!
