Højsangen 5
1 Jeg kommer i min Have, min Søster, min Brud, jeg plukker min Myrra og Balsam, jeg spiser min Honning og Saft, jeg drikker min Vin og Mælk. Venner, spis og drik og berus jer i Kærlighed!
[[Lov.]] I am come to my garden, my sister, my spouse! I gather my myrrh with my balsam, I eat my honeycomb with my honey, I drink my wine with my milk. Eat, O friends! Drink, yea, drink abundantly, my loved companions!
2 Jeg sov, men mit hjerte våged; tys, da banked min ven: "Luk op for mig, o Søster, min Veninde, min Due, min rene, thi mit Hoved er fuldt af Dug, mine Lokker af Nattens Dråber."
[[M.]] I slept, but my heart was awake; It was the voice of my beloved, who was knocking: “Open to me, my sister, my love, My dove, my perfect one! For my head is filled with dew, And my locks with the drops of the night.”
3 Jeg har taget min Kjortel af, skal jeg atter tage den på? Jeg har tvættet mine Fødder, skal jeg atter snavse dem til?
“I have taken off my vest [[said I]]; How shall I put it on? I have washed my feet; How shall I soil them?”
4 Gennem Gluggen rakte min Ven sin Hånd, det brusede stærkt i mit Indre.
My beloved put in his hand by the hole of the door, And my heart was moved for him.
5 Jeg stod op og åbned for min Ven; mine Hænder drypped af Myrra, mine Fingre af flydende Myrra, da de rørte ved Låsens Håndtag.
I rose up to open to my beloved, And my hands dropped with myrrh, And my fingers with self-flowing myrrh, upon the handles of the bolt.
6 Så lukked jeg op for min Ven, men min Ven var gået sin Vej. Jeg var ude af mig selv ved hans Ord. Jeg søgte, men fandt ham ikke, kaldte, han svared mig ikke.
I opened to my beloved; But my beloved had withdrawn himself, and was gone. I was not in my senses while he spake with me! I sought him, but could not find him; I called him, but he gave me no answer.
7 Vægterne, som færdes i Byen, traf mig, de slog og såred mig; Murens Vægtere rev Kappen af mig.
The watchmen that go about the city found me; They smote me, they wounded me; The keepers of the walls took away from me my veil.
8 Jeg besværger eder, Jerusalems Døtre: Såfremt I finder min Ven, hvad skal I da sige til ham? At jeg er syg af Kærlighed!
I charge you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem! If ye should find my beloved, —What will ye tell him? That I am sick with love.
9 "Hvad Fortrin har da, din Ven, du fagreste, blandt Kvinder? Hvad Fortrin har da din Ven, at du besværger os så?"
[[Lad.]] What is thy beloved more than another beloved, O thou fairest among women! What is thy beloved more than another beloved, That thus thou dost charge us?
10 Min Ven er hvid og rød, herlig blandt Titusinder,
[[M.]] My beloved is white and ruddy, The chief among ten thousand.
11 hans Hoved er det fineste Guld, hans Lokker er Ranker, sorte som Ravne,
His head is as the most fine gold; His locks waving palm-branches, Black as a raven;
12 hans Øjne som Duer ved rindende Bække, badet i Mælk og siddende ved Strømme,
His eyes are doves by streams of water, Washed with milk, dwelling in fulness;
13 hans Kinder som Balsambede; Skabe med Vellugt, hans Læber er Liljer, de drypper, af flydende Myrra,
His cheeks are like a bed of balsam, Like beds of spices; His lips are lilies Dropping self-flowing myrrh;
14 hans Hænder er Stænger af Guld, fyldt med Rubiner, hans Liv en Elfenbensplade, besat med Safirer,
His hands are gold rings set with chrysolite; His body is wrought-work of ivory, overlaid with sapphires;
15 hans Ben er Søjler af Marmor På Sokler af Guld, hans Skikkelse som Libanon, herlig som Cedre,
His legs are marble pillars, resting on pedestals of fine gold; His aspect is like Lebanon, Majestic like the cedars;
16 hans Gane er Sødme, han er idel Ynde. Sådan er min elskede, sådan min Ven, Jerusalems Døtre.
His mouth is sweetness; His whole being, loveliness. This is my beloved, This my friend, O ye daughters of Jerusalem!
