Song of Songs 1
1 The Song of songs, which is Solomon's.
Salomos Højsang.
2 Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth: for thy breasts are better than wine.
Kys mig, giv mig Kys af din Mund, thi din Kærlighed er bedre end Vin.
3 And the smell of thine ointments is better than all spices: thy name is ointment poured forth; therefore do the young maidens love thee.
Lifligt dufter dine Salver, dit Navn er en udgydt Salve, derfor har Kvinder dig kær.
4 They have drawn thee: we will run after thee, for the smell of thine ointments: the king has brought me into closet: let us rejoice and be glad in thee; we will love thy breasts more than wine: righteousness loves thee.
Drag mig efter dig, kom, lad os løbe; Kongen tog mig ind i sine Kamre. Vi vil juble og glæde os i dig, prise din Kærlighed fremfor Vin. Med Rette har de dig kær.
5 I am black, but beautiful, ye daughters of Jerusalem, as the tents of Kedar, as the curtains of Solomon.
Jeg er sort, dog yndig, Jerusalems Døtre, som Kedars Telte, som Salmas Forhæng.
6 Look not upon me, because I am dark, because the sun has looked unfavourably upon me: my mother's sons strove with me; they made me keeper in the vineyards; I have not kept my own vineyard.
Se ej paa mig, fordi jeg er sortladen, fordi jeg er brændt af Solen. Min Moders Sønner vrededes paa mig, til Vingaardsvogterske satte de mig — min egen Vingaard vogted jeg ikke.
7 Tell me, [thou] whom my soul loves, where thou tendest thy flock, where thou causest [them] to rest at noon, lest I become as one that is veiled by the flocks of thy companions.
Sig mig, du, som min Sjæl har kær, hvor du vogter din Hjord, hvor du holder Hvil ved Middag. Thi hvi skal jeg gaa som en Landstryger ved dine Fællers Hjorde?
8 If thou know not thyself, thou fair one among women, go thou forth by the footsteps of the flocks, and feed thy kids by the shepherd's tents.
Saafremt du ikke ved det, du fagreste blandt Kvinder, følg da kun Hjordens Spor og vogt dine Geder ved Hyrdernes Boliger.
9 I have likened thee, my companion, to my horses in the chariots of Pharao.
Ved Faraos Forspand ligner jeg dig, min Veninde.
10 How are thy cheeks beautiful as [those] of a dove, thy neck as chains!
Dine Kinder er yndige med Snorene, din Hals med Kæderne.
11 We will make thee figures of gold with studs of silver.
Vi vil gøre dig Snore af Guld med Stænk af Sølv.
12 So long as the king was at table, my spikenard gave forth its smell.
Min Nardus spreder sin Duft, mens Kongen er til Bords;
13 My kinsman is to me a bundle of myrrh; he shall lie between my breasts.
min Ven er mig en Myrrapose, der ligger ved mit Bryst,
14 My kinsman is to me a cluster of camphor in the vineyards of Engaddi.
min Ven er mig en Koferklase fra En-Gedis Vingaarde.
15 Behold, thou art fair, my companion; behold, thou art fair; thine eyes are doves.
Hvor du er fager, min Veninde, hvor du er fager, dine Øjne er Duer!
16 Behold, thou art fair, my kinsman, yea, beautiful, overshadowing our bed.
Hvor du er fager, min Ven, ja dejlig er du, vort Leje er grønt,
17 The beams of our house are cedars, our ceilings are of cypress.
vor Boligs Bjælker er Cedre, Panelet Cypresser!
