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!
I have come into my garden, my sister, my bride; I have gathered my myrrh with my spice. I have eaten my honeycomb with my honey; I have drunk my wine with my milk. The friends speaking to the man and the woman Eat, friends; drink and be drunk with love.
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."
I was asleep, but my heart was awake. There is the sound of my beloved knocking and saying, “Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled one, for my head is wet with dew, my hair with the night's dampness.”
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 robe; must I put it on again? I have washed my feet; must I get them dirty?”
4 Gennem Gluggen rakte min Ven sin Hånd, det brusede stærkt i mit Indre.
My beloved put in his hand through the opening of the door latch, and my heart was stirred up 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 got up to open the door for my beloved; my hands were dripping with myrrh, my fingers with moist myrrh, on the door handle.
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 the door for my beloved, but my beloved had turned and gone. My heart sank when he spoke. I looked for him, but I did not find him; I called him, but he did not answer me.
7 Vægterne, som færdes i Byen, traf mig, de slog og såred mig; Murens Vægtere rev Kappen af mig.
The watchmen found me as they were making their rounds in the city. They struck me and wounded me; the guards on the walls took away my cloak from me.
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 want you to swear, daughters of Jerusalem, that if you find my beloved— What will you make known to him?— that I am sick from love.
9 "Hvad Fortrin har da, din Ven, du fagreste, blandt Kvinder? Hvad Fortrin har da din Ven, at du besværger os så?"
How is your beloved better than another beloved man, most beautiful among women? Why is your beloved better than another beloved, that you ask us to take an oath like this?
10 Min Ven er hvid og rød, herlig blandt Titusinder,
My beloved is radiant and ruddy, outstanding among ten thousand.
11 hans Hoved er det fineste Guld, hans Lokker er Ranker, sorte som Ravne,
His head is the purest gold; his hair is curly and as black as a raven.
12 hans Øjne som Duer ved rindende Bække, badet i Mælk og siddende ved Strømme,
His eyes are like doves beside streams of water, bathed in milk, mounted like jewels.
13 hans Kinder som Balsambede; Skabe med Vellugt, hans Læber er Liljer, de drypper, af flydende Myrra,
His cheeks are like beds of spices, yielding aromatic scents. His lips are lilies, dripping liquid myrrh.
14 hans Hænder er Stænger af Guld, fyldt med Rubiner, hans Liv en Elfenbensplade, besat med Safirer,
His arms are rounded gold set with jewels; his abdomen is ivory covered with sapphires.
15 hans Ben er Søjler af Marmor På Sokler af Guld, hans Skikkelse som Libanon, herlig som Cedre,
His legs are pillars of marble, set on bases of pure gold; his appearance is like Lebanon, choice as the cedars.
16 hans Gane er Sødme, han er idel Ynde. Sådan er min elskede, sådan min Ven, Jerusalems Døtre.
His mouth is most sweet; he is completely lovely. This is my beloved, and this is my friend, daughters of Jerusalem.
