Højsangen 7
1 Hvor skønne er dine Trin i Skoene, du ædelbårne! Dine Hofters Runding er som Halsbånd, Kunstnerhånds Værk,
How beautiful, are thy feet in sandals, O daughter of a noble, —The curvings of thy hips, are like ornaments wrought by the hands of a skilled workman:
2 dit Skød som det runde Bæger, ej savne det Vin, dit Liv som en Hvededynge, hegnet af Liljer;
Thy navel, is a round bowl, may it not lack spiced wine! Thy body, a heap of wheat fenced about with lilies;
3 dit Bryst som to Hjortekalve, Gazelletvillinger,
Thy two breasts, are like two young roes, the twins of a gazelle:
4 din Hals som Elfenbenstårnet, dine Øjne som Hesjbons damme ved Bat-Rabbims Port, din Næse som Libanons Tårn, der ser mod Damaskus,
Thy neck, is like a tower of ivory, —Thine eyes, are pools in Heshbon, by the gate of Bath-rabbim, Thy nose, is like the tower of Lebanon, which looketh towards Damascus:
5 Hovedet på dig som Karmel, dit Hoveds Lokker som Purpur; en Konge er fanget i Garnet.
Thy head upon thee, is like Carmel, And, the hair of thy head, is like purple, —The king, is held captive by the ringlets!
6 Hvor er du fager og yndig, du elskede, yndefulde!
[HE] How beautiful, and how delightful, O dear love, for delights:
7 Som Palmen, så er din Vækst, dit Bryst som Klaser.
This thy stature, is like to a palm-tree, and, thy breasts, are like clusters:
8 Jeg tænker: Jeg vil op i Palmen, gribe fat i dens Stilke; dit Bryst skal være som Vinstokkens Klaser, din Næses Ånde som Æbleduft,
I said, I will ascend the palm-tree, I will lay hold of its fruit stalks—Oh then, let thy breasts, I pray thee, be like vine-clusters, And, the fragrance of thy nose, like apples;
9 din Gane som ædel Vin, der liflig flyder ind i min Mund, glider over mine Læber og Tænder.
And, thy mouth, like good wine—[SHE] Flowing to my beloved smoothly, gliding over the lips of the sleeping.
10 Jeg er min Vens, og til mig står hans Attrå.
I, am my beloved’s, and, unto me, is his longing.
11 Kom min Ven, vi vil ud på Landet, blive i Landsbyer Natten over;
Come, my beloved, Let us go forth into the country, Let us stay the night in the villages:
12 Vingårde søger vi årle, vi ser, om Vinstokken skyder, om Knopperne åbnes, Granattræet blomstrer. Der giver jeg dig min Kærlighed.
Let us get up early to the vineyards, Let us see whether the vine, hath burst forth, the blossom, hath opened, the pomegranates, have bloomed, —There, will I give my caresses to thee.
13 Kærlighedsæblerne dufter, for vor Dør er al Slags Frugt, ny og gammel tillige; til dig, min Ven, har jeg gemt dem.
The love-apples, have given fragrance, and, at our openings, are all precious things, new and yet old, —O my beloved! I have treasured them up for thee.
