Højsangen 2
1 Jeg er Sarons Rose, Dalenes Lilje
I am a rose of Sharon, A lily of the valleys.
2 Som en Lilje midt iblandt Torne er min Veninde blandt Piger.
[[Lov.]] 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.
[[M.]] As the apple-tree among the trees of the forest, So is my beloved among the sons. In his shadow I love to 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 his banqueting-house, And his banner over me is love. Strengthen me with raisins,
5 Styrk mig med Rosinkager, kvæg mig med Æbler, thi jeg er syg af Kærlighed.
Refresh me with apples! For I am sick with 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 embraceth me!
7 Jeg besværger eder, Jerusalems Døtre, ved Gazeller og Markens Hjorte: Gør ikke Kærligheden Uro, væk den ikke, før den ønsker det selv!
[[Lov.]] I charge you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, By the gazelles, and by the hinds of the field, That ye stir not up, nor awake my love, till she please!
8 Hør! Der er min Ven! Ja se, der kommer han i Løb over Bjergene, i Spring over Højene.
[[M.]] The voice of my beloved! Behold, he cometh, Leaping upon the mountains, Bounding 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.
Like a gazelle is my beloved, Or a young hind. Behold, he standeth behind our wall; He is looking through the windows; He glanceth through the lattice.
10 Min Ven stemmer i og siger så til mig: Stå op, min Veninde, du fagre, kom!
My beloved speaketh, and saith to me, “Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away!
11 Thi nu er Vinteren omme, Regntiden svandt, for hen,
For, lo, the winter is past, The rain is over and 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 the singing of birds is come, And the voice of the turtle is heard in our land;
13 Figentræets Småfrugter svulmer, Vinstokken blomstrer, udspreder Duft. Stå op, min Veninde, du fagre, kom,
The fig-tree is spicing its green fruit; The vines in blossom give forth 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.
O my dove, that art in the recesses of the rock, In the hiding-places of the steep craggy mountain, Let me see thy face, Let me hear thy voice! For sweet is thy voice, And thy face lovely.”
15 Fang os de Ræve, de Ræve små, som hærger Vinen, vor blomstrende Vin!
Take ye for us the foxes, The little foxes that spoil the vines; For our vines are now in blossom.
16 Min Ven er min, og jeg er hans, som vogter blandt Liljer;
My beloved is mine, and I am his; He feedeth 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!
When the day breathes, and the shadows flee away, Come again, my beloved, like a gazelle, or a young hind, Upon the craggy mountains.
