Højsangen 2
1 Jeg er Sarons Rose, Dalenes Lilje
I am a narcissus of Sharon, A lily of the valleys.
2 Som en Lilje midt iblandt Torne er min Veninde blandt Piger.
As the lily among thorns, So is my love among the daughters.
3 Som et Æbletræ blandt Skovens Træer er min Ven blandt unge Mænd. I hans Skygge har jeg Lyst til at sidde, hans Frugt er sød for min Gane.
As the apple-tree among the trees of the wood, So is my beloved among the sons: In his shadow have I rapture and sit down; And his fruit is sweet to my taste.
4 Til en Vinhal bragte han mig, hvor Mærket over mig er Kærlighed.
He hath brought me to the house of wine, And his banner over me is love.
5 Styrk mig med Rosinkager, kvæg mig med Æbler, thi jeg er syg af Kærlighed.
Sustain ye me with raisin-cakes, Refresh me with apples; For I am sick of love.
6 Hans venstre er under mit Hoved, hans højre tager mig i Favn.
His left hand is under my head, And his right hand doth embrace me.
7 Jeg besværger eder, Jerusalems Døtre, ved Gazeller og Markens Hjorte: Gør ikke Kærligheden Uro, væk den ikke, før den ønsker det selv!
I charge you, daughters of Jerusalem, By the gazelles, or by the hinds of the field, That ye stir not up, nor awake [my] love, till he please.
8 Hør! Der er min Ven! Ja se, der kommer han i Løb over Bjergene, i Spring over Højene.
The voice of my beloved! Behold, he cometh Leaping upon the mountains, Skipping upon the hills.
9 Min Ven er som en Gazel, han er som den unge Hjort. Se, nu står han alt bag vor Mur. Han ser gennem Vinduet, kigger gennem Gitteret.
My beloved is like a gazelle or a young hart. Behold, he standeth behind our wall, He looketh in through the windows, Glancing through the lattice.
10 Min Ven stemmer i og siger så til mig: Stå op, min Veninde, du fagre, kom!
My beloved spake and said unto me, Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.
11 Thi nu er Vinteren omme, Regntiden svandt, for hen,
For behold, the winter is past, The rain is over, it is gone:
12 Blomster ses i Landet, Sangens Tid er kommet, Turtelduens Kurren høres i vort Land;
The flowers appear on the earth; The time of singing is come, And the voice of the turtle-dove is heard in our land;
13 Figentræets Småfrugter svulmer, Vinstokken blomstrer, udspreder Duft. Stå op, min Veninde, du fagre, kom,
The fig-tree melloweth her winter figs, And the vines in bloom give forth [their] fragrance. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away!
14 min Due i Fjeldets Kløfter, i Bjergvæggens Skjul! Lad mig skue din Skikkelse, høre din Røst, thi sød er din Røst og din Skikkelse yndig.
My dove, in the clefts of the rock, In the covert of the precipice, Let me see thy countenance, let me hear thy voice; For sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely.
15 Fang os de Ræve, de Ræve små, som hærger Vinen, vor blomstrende Vin!
Take us the foxes, The little foxes, that spoil the vineyards; For our vineyards are in bloom.
16 Min Ven er min, og jeg er hans, som vogter blandt Liljer;
My beloved is mine, and I am his; He feedeth [his flock] among the lilies,
17 til Dagen svales og Skyggerne længes, kom hid, min Ven, og vær som Gazellen, som den unge Hjort på duftende Bjerge!
Until the day dawn, and the shadows flee away. Turn, my beloved: be thou like a gazelle or a young hart, Upon the mountains of Bether.
