< Song of Songs 7 >

1 Thy steps are beautiful in shoes, O daughter of the prince: the joints of [thy] thighs are like chains, the work of the craftsman.
Hvor skønne er dine Trin i Skoene, du ædelbaarne! Dine Hofters Runding er som Halsbaand, Kunstnerhaands Værk,
2 Thy navel is [as] a turned bowl, not wanting liquor; thy belly is [as] a heap of wheat set about with lilies.
dit Skød som det runde Bæger, ej savne det Vin, dit Liv som en Hvededynge, hegnet af Liljer;
3 Thy two breasts are as two twin fawns.
dit Bryst som to Hjortekalve, Gazelletvillinger,
4 Thy neck is as an ivory tower; thine eyes are as pools in Esebon, by the gates of the daughter of many: thy nose is as the tower of Libanus, looking toward Damascus.
din Hals som Elfenbenstaarnet, dine Øjne som Hesjbons Damme ved Bat-Rabbims Port, din Næse som Libanons Taarn, der ser mod Damaskus,
5 Thy head upon thee is as Carmel, and the curls of thy hair like scarlet; the king is bound in the galleries.
Hovedet paa dig som Karmel, dit Hoveds Lokker som Purpur; en Konge er fanget i Garnet.
6 How beautiful art thou, and how sweet art thou, [my] love!
Hvor er du fager og yndig, du elskede, yndefulde!
7 This is thy greatness in thy delights: thou wast made like a palm tree, and thy breasts to cluster.
Som Palmen, saa er din Vækst, dit Bryst som Klaser.
8 I said, I will go up to the palm tree, I will take hold of its high boughs: and now shall thy breasts be as clusters of the vine, and the smell of thy nose of apples;
Jeg tænker: Jeg vil op i Palmen, gribe fat i dens Stilke; dit Bryst skal være som Vinstokkens Klaser, din Næses Aande som Æbleduft,
9 and thy throat as good wine, going well with my kinsman, suiting my lips and teeth.
din Gane som ædel Vin, der liflig flyder ind i min Mund, glider over mine Læber og Tænder.
10 I am my kinsman's, and his desire is toward me.
Jeg er min Vens, og til mig staar hans Attraa.
11 Come, my kinsman, let us go forth into the field; let us lodge in the villages.
Kom min Ven, vi vil ud paa Landet, blive i Landsbyer Natten over;
12 Let us go early into the vineyards; let us see if the vine has flowered, [if] the blossoms have appeared, if the pomegranates have blossomed; there will I give thee my breasts.
Vingaarde søger vi aarle, vi ser, om Vinstokken skyder, om Knopperne aabnes, Granattræet blomstrer. Der giver jeg dig min Kærlighed.
13 The mandrakes have given a smell, and at our doors [are] all kinds of choice fruits, new and old. O my kinsman, I have kept [them] for thee.
Kærlighedsæblerne dufter, for vor Dør er al Slags Frugt, ny og gammel tillige; til dig, min Ven, har jeg gemt dem.

< Song of Songs 7 >