Song of Solomon 5
1 Let my beloved come into his garden, and eat the fruit of his apple trees. I am come into my garden, O my sister, my spouse, I have gathered my myrrh, with my aromatical spices: I have eaten the honeycomb with my honey, I have drunk my wine with my milk: eat, O friends, and drink, and be inebriated, my dearly beloved.
Jeg er kommen, min Søster, o Brud! i min Have, jeg har plukket min Myrra tillige med min duftende Urt, jeg har ædt min Honningkage tillige med min Honning, jeg har drukket min Vin tillige med min Mælk; æder, I Venner! drikker og bliver drukne, I elskelige!
2 I sleep, and my heart watcheth; the voice of my beloved knocking: Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled: for my head is full of dew, and my locks of the drops of the nights.
Jeg sov, men mit Hjerte vaagede. Min elskedes Røst! Han banker: Luk op for mig, min Søster! min Veninde! min Due! min rene! thi mit Hoved er fuldt af Dug, mine Lokker af Nattens Draaber. —
3 I have put off my garment, how shall I put it on? I have washed my feet, how shall I defile them?
Jeg har afført mig min Kjortel; hvorledes skal jeg iføre mig den igen? jeg har toet mine Fødder; hvorledes skal jeg gøre dem urene igen?
4 My beloved put his hand through the key hole, and my bowels were moved at his touch.
Min elskede stak sin Haand igennem Aabningen, og mit Indre blev heftigt bevæget for hans Skyld.
5 I arose up to open to my beloved: my hands dropped with myrrh, and my fingers were full of the choicest myrrh.
Da stod jeg op for at lukke op for min elskede; og mine Hænder dryppede med Myrra og mine Fingre med flydende Myrra over Haandfangene paa Laasen.
6 I opened the bolt of my door to my beloved: but he had turned aside, and was gone. My soul melted when he spoke: I sought him, and found him not: I called, and he did not answer me.
Jeg lukkede op for min elskede, men min elskede havde vendt sig bort, han var gaaet forbi; jeg var gaaet ud af mig selv, da han talte; jeg ledte efter ham, men fandt ham ikke; jeg kaldte ad ham, men han svarede mig ikke.
7 The keepers that go about the city found me: they struck me: and wounded me: the keepers of the walls took away my veil from me.
Vægterne, som gaa omkring i Staden, fandt mig, de sloge mig, de saarede mig; Vægterne paa Murene toge mit Slør fra mig.
8 I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if you find my beloved, that you tell him that I languish with love.
Jeg besværger eder, I Jerusalems Døtre! om I finde min elskede, hvad skulle I forkynde ham? At jeg er syg af Kærlighed.
9 What manner of one is thy beloved of the beloved, O thou most beautiful among women? what manner of one is thy beloved of the beloved, that thou hast so adjured us?
Hvad er din elskede fremfor en andens elskede, du dejligste iblandt Kvinderne? hvad er din elskede fremfor en andens elskede, at du har saaledes besvoret os?
10 My beloved is white and ruddy, chosen out of thousands.
Min elskede er hvid og rød, udmærket fremfor ti Tusinde.
11 His head is as the finest gold: his locks as branches of palm trees, black as a raven.
Hans Hoved er fineste Guld; hans Lokker ere krusede, sorte som Ravnen.
12 His eyes as doves upon brooks of waters, which are washed with milk, and sit beside the plentiful streams.
Hans Øjne ere som Duer ved Vandbække, badende sig i Mælk, siddende ved fulde Strømme.
13 His cheeks are as beds of aromatical spices set by the perfumers. His lips are as lilies dropping choice myrrh.
Hans Kinder ere som duftende Blomsterbede, Taarne af vellugtende Urter; hans Læber ere som Lillier, der dryppe med flydende Myrra;
14 His hands are turned and as of gold, full of hyacinths. His belly as of ivory, set with sapphires.
hans Hænder ere Guldringe, besatte med Krysoliter; hans Bug er skinnende Elfenben, belagt med Safirer;
15 His legs as pillars of marble, that are set upon bases of gold. His form as of Libanus, excellent as the cedars.
hans Ben ere Marmorstøtter, grundfæstede i Fodstykker af Guld; hans Skikkelse er som Libanon, udvalgt som Cedertræerne;
16 His throat most sweet, and he is all lovely: such is my beloved, and he is my friend, O ye daughters of Jerusalem.
hans Gane er Sødhed, og han er lutter Yndighed; dette er min elskede, og dette er min Ven, I Jerusalems Døtre!
