Højsangen 2
1 Jeg er Sarons Rose, Dalenes Lilje
[SHE] I am The meadow-saffron of Sharon, The lily of the valleys.
2 Som en Lilje midt iblandt Torne er min Veninde blandt Piger.
[HE] As a lily among thorns, So, is my fair one, 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.
[SHE] As an apple-tree among the trees of the forest, So, is my beloved, among the sons: In his shade, I greatly delighted and sat down, And, his fruit, was sweet to my taste.
4 Til en Vinhal bragte han mig, hvor Mærket over mig er Kærlighed.
He hath brought me into 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 me with raisin-cakes, refresh me with apples, —for sick with love, I am.
6 Hans venstre er under mit Hoved, hans højre tager mig i Favn.
His left hand under my head, then, 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!
[HE] I adjure you, ye daughters of Jerusalem, by the gazelles or by the hinds of the field, —That ye wake not, nor arouse, the dear love until she please!
8 Hør! Der er min Ven! Ja se, der kommer han i Løb over Bjergene, i Spring over Højene.
[SHE] The voice of my beloved! Lo! here he cometh, —leaping over the mountains, skipping over 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.
Resembleth, my beloved, a gazelle, or a young stag, —Lo! here he is, standing behind our wall, looking in at the windows, peeping in at the lattice.
10 Min Ven stemmer i og siger så til mig: Stå op, min Veninde, du fagre, kom!
Responded my beloved, and said to me, —Rise up! my fair—my beautiful—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, have appeared in the earth, the time of the spring-song, hath 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, hath spiced her green figs, and, the vines—all blossom, yield fragrance, —Rise up! my fair—my beautiful—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.
[HE] O my dove! In the retreats of the crag, in the hiding-place of the terrace, Let me see thy form, Let me hear thy voice, —For, thy voice, is sweet, and, thy form, comely.
15 Fang os de Ræve, de Ræve små, som hærger Vinen, vor blomstrende Vin!
[BOTH] Take ye for us, the foxes, the little foxes that are spoiling the vines, —and, our vines, are all blossom!
16 Min Ven er min, og jeg er hans, som vogter blandt Liljer;
[SHE] My beloved, is, mine, and, I, am, his, he that pastureth among 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, breathe, and the shadows, be lengthened, Again, liken thyself, my beloved, to a gazelle, or to a young stag, upon the cleft mountains.
