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 doth make thee as a brother to me, Sucking the breasts of my mother? I find thee without, I kiss thee, Yea, 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 thee, I bring thee in unto my mother's house, She doth teach me, I cause thee to drink of the perfumed 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 doth embrace 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 ye stir up, And how ye wake the love till she please!
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, Hasting herself for her beloved? Under the citron-tree I have waked thee, There did thy mother pledge thee, There she gave a pledge [that] bare thee.
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 thy heart, as a seal on thine arm, For strong as death is love, Sharp as Sheol is jealousy, Its burnings [are] burnings of fire, a flame of Jah! (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 give all the wealth of his house for love, Treading down — they tread upon 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 breasts she hath not, 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 hath a vineyard in Baal-Hamon, He hath given the vineyard to keepers, Each bringeth for its fruit a thousand silverlings;
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 thousand [is] for thee, 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 thy 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!
