Song of Solomon 4
1 Behold, thou are fair, my love, behold, thou are fair. Thine eyes are doves behind thy veil. Thy hair is as a flock of goats that lie along the side of mount Gilead.
Hvor du er fager, min Veninde, hvor er du fager! Dine Øjne er Duer bag sløret, dit Haar som en Gedeflok bølgende ned fra Gilead,
2 Thy teeth are like a flock of ewes that are newly shorn, which have come up from the washing, of which every one has twins, and none is bereaved among them.
dine Tænder som en nyklippet Faareflok, der kommer fra Bad, som alle har Tvillinger, intet er uden Lam;
3 Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet, and thy mouth is comely. Thy temples are like a piece of a pomegranate behind thy veil.
som en Purpursnor er dine Læber, yndig din Mund, din Tinding som et bristet Granatæble bag ved dit Slør;
4 Thy neck is like the tower of David built for an armory, on which there hang a thousand bucklers, all the shields of the mighty men.
din Hals er som Davids Taarn, der er bygget til Udkig, tusinde Skjolde hænger derpaa, kun Helteskjolde;
5 Thy two breasts are like two fawns that are twins of a roe, which feed among the lilies.
dit Bryst som to Hjortekalve, Gazelletvillinger, der græsser blandt Liljer.
6 Until the day is cool, and the shadows flee away, I will get me to the mountain of myrrh, and to the hill of frankincense.
Til Dagen svales og Skyggerne længes, vil jeg vandre til Myrrabjerget og Vellugtshøjen.
7 Thou are all fair, my love, and there is no spot in thee.
Du er fuldendt fager, min Veninde og uden Lyde.
8 Come with me from Lebanon, my bride, with me from Lebanon. Look from the top of Amana, from the top of Senir and Hermon, from the lions' dens, from the mountains of the leopards.
Kom med mig fra Libanon, Brud, kom med mig fra Libanon, stig ned fra Amanas Tinde, fra Senirs og Hermons Tinde, fra Løvers Huler, fra Panteres Bjerge!
9 Thou have ravished my heart, my sister, my bride. Thou have ravished my heart with one of thine eyes, with one chain of thy neck.
Du har fanget mig, min Søster, min Brud, du har fanget mig med et af dine Blikke, med en af din Halses Kæder.
10 How fair is thy love, my sister, my bride! How much better is thy love than wine, and the fragrance of thine oils than all manner of spices!
Hvor herlig er din Kærlighed, min Søster, min Brud, hvor din Kærlighed er god fremfor Vin, dine Salvers Duft fremfor alskens Vellugt!
11 Thy lips, O my bride, drop the honeycomb. Honey and milk are under thy tongue, and the smell of thy garments is like the smell of Lebanon.
Dine Læber drypper af Sødme, min Brud, under din Tunge er Honning og Mælk; dine Klæders Duft er som Libanons Duft.
12 A garden shut up is my sister, my bride, a spring shut up, a fountain sealed.
Min Søster, min Brud er en lukket Have, en lukket Kilde, et Væld under Segl.
13 Thy shoots are an orchard of pomegranates, with precious fruits, henna with spikenard plants,
Dine Skud er en Lund af Granattræer med kostelige Frugter, Kofer,
14 spikenard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon, with all trees of frankincense, myrrh and aloes, with all the chief spices.
Nardus og Kalmus og Kanel og alle Slags Vellugtstræer, Myrra og Safran og Aloe og alskens ypperlig Balsam.
15 Thou are a fountain of gardens, a well of living waters, and flowing streams from Lebanon.
Min Haves Væld er en Brønd med rindende Vand og Strømme fra Libanon.
16 Awake, O north wind, and come, thou south, blow upon my garden, that the spices of it may flow out. Let my beloved come into his garden, and eat his precious fruits.
Nordenvind, vaagn, Søndenvind kom, blæs gennem min Have, saa dens Vellugt spredes! Min Ven komme ind i sin Have og nyde dens udsøgte Frugt!
