Song of Solomon 7
1 How beautiful are thy footsteps in sandals, O prince's daughter! The roundings of thy thighs are like jewels, The work of the hands of an artist.
Hvor skønne er dine Trin i Skoene, du ædelbaarne! Dine Hofters Runding er som Halsbaand, Kunstnerhaands Værk,
2 Thy navel is a round goblet, [which] wanteth not mixed wine; Thy belly 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 like two fawns, twins of a gazelle;
dit Bryst som to Hjortekalve, Gazelletvillinger,
4 Thy neck is as a tower of ivory; Thine eyes, [like] the pools in Heshbon, By the gate of Bath-rabbim; Thy nose like the tower of Lebanon, Which looketh 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 like Carmel, And the locks of thy head like purple; The king is fettered by [thy] ringlets!
Hovedet paa dig som Karmel, dit Hoveds Lokker som Purpur; en Konge er fanget i Garnet.
6 How fair and how pleasant art thou, [my] love, in delights!
Hvor er du fager og yndig, du elskede, yndefulde!
7 This thy stature is like to a palm-tree, And thy breasts to grape clusters.
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 the boughs thereof; And thy breasts shall indeed be like clusters of the vine, And the fragrance of thy nose like 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 the roof of thy mouth like the best wine, ...That goeth down smoothly for my beloved, And stealeth over the lips of them that are asleep.
din Gane som ædel Vin, der liflig flyder ind i min Mund, glider over mine Læber og Tænder.
10 I am my beloved's, And his desire is toward me.
Jeg er min Vens, og til mig staar hans Attraa.
11 — Come, my beloved, let us go forth into the fields; Let us lodge in the villages.
Kom min Ven, vi vil ud paa Landet, blive i Landsbyer Natten over;
12 We will go up early to the vineyards, We will see if the vine hath budded, [If] the blossom is opening, And the pomegranates are in bloom: There will I give thee my loves.
Vingaarde søger vi aarle, vi ser, om Vinstokken skyder, om Knopperne aabnes, Granattræet blomstrer. Der giver jeg dig min Kærlighed.
13 The mandrakes yield fragrance; And at our gates are all choice fruits, new and old: I have laid them up for thee, my beloved.
Kærlighedsæblerne dufter, for vor Dør er al Slags Frugt, ny og gammel tillige; til dig, min Ven, har jeg gemt dem.
