Højsangen 1
1 Salomos Højsang.
2 Kys mig, giv mig Kys af din Mund, thi din Kærlighed er bedre end Vin.
Let him kiss me with the kiss of his mouth: for thy breasts are better than wine,
3 Lifligt dufter dine Salver, dit Navn er en udgydt Salve, derfor har Kvinder dig kær.
Smelling sweet of the best ointments. Thy name is as oil poured out: therefore young maidens have loved thee.
4 Drag mig efter dig, kom, lad os løbe; Kongen tog mig ind i sine Kamre. Vi vil juble og glæde os i dig, prise din Kærlighed fremfor Vin. Med Rette har de dig kær.
Draw me: we will run after thee to the odour of thy ointments. The king hath brought me into his storerooms: we will be glad and rejoice in thee, remembering thy breasts more than wine: the righteous love thee.
5 Jeg er sort, dog yndig, Jerusalems Døtre, som Kedars Telte, som Salmas Forhæng.
I am black but beautiful, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, as the tents of Cedar, as the curtains of Solomon.
6 Se ej paa mig, fordi jeg er sortladen, fordi jeg er brændt af Solen. Min Moders Sønner vrededes paa mig, til Vingaardsvogterske satte de mig — min egen Vingaard vogted jeg ikke.
Do not consider me that I am brown, because the sun hath altered my colour: the sons of my mother have fought against me, they have made me the keeper in the vineyards: my vineyard I have not kept.
7 Sig mig, du, som min Sjæl har kær, hvor du vogter din Hjord, hvor du holder Hvil ved Middag. Thi hvi skal jeg gaa som en Landstryger ved dine Fællers Hjorde?
Shew me, O thou whom my soul loveth, where thou feedest, where thou liest in the midday, lest I begin to wander after the flocks of thy companions.
8 Saafremt du ikke ved det, du fagreste blandt Kvinder, følg da kun Hjordens Spor og vogt dine Geder ved Hyrdernes Boliger.
If thou know not thyself, O fairest among women, go forth, and follow after the steps of the flocks, and feed thy kids beside the tents of the shepherds.
9 Ved Faraos Forspand ligner jeg dig, min Veninde.
To my company of horsemen, in Pharao’s chariots, have I likened thee, O my love.
10 Dine Kinder er yndige med Snorene, din Hals med Kæderne.
Thy cheeks are beautiful as the turtledove’s, thy neck as jewels.
11 Vi vil gøre dig Snore af Guld med Stænk af Sølv.
We will make thee chains of gold, inlaid with silver.
12 Min Nardus spreder sin Duft, mens Kongen er til Bords;
While the king was at his repose, my spikenard sent forth the odour thereof.
13 min Ven er mig en Myrrapose, der ligger ved mit Bryst,
A bundle of myrrh is my beloved to me, he shall abide between my breasts.
14 min Ven er mig en Koferklase fra En-Gedis Vingaarde.
A cluster of cypress my love is to me, in the vineyards of Engaddi.
15 Hvor du er fager, min Veninde, hvor du er fager, dine Øjne er Duer!
Behold thou art fair, O my love, behold thou art fair, thy eyes are as those of doves.
16 Hvor du er fager, min Ven, ja dejlig er du, vort Leje er grønt,
Behold thou art fair, my beloved, and comely. Our bed is flourishing.
17 vor Boligs Bjælker er Cedre, Panelet Cypresser!
The beams of our houses are of cedar, our rafters of cypress trees.
