Song of Solomon 7
1 What shalt thou see in the Sulamitess but the companies of camps? How beautiful are thy steps in shoes, O prince’s daughter! The joints of thy thighs are like jewels, that are made by the hand of a skillful workman.
Hvor skønne er dine Trin i Skoene, du ædelbaarne! Dine Hofters Runding er som Halsbaand, Kunstnerhaands Værk,
2 Thy navel is like a round bowl never wanting cups. Thy belly is like 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 young roes that are twins.
dit Bryst som to Hjortekalve, Gazelletvillinger,
4 Thy neck as a tower of ivory. Thy eyes like the fishpools in Hesebon, which are in the gate of the daughter of the multitude. Thy nose is as the tower of Libanus, that 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 is like Carmel: and the hairs of thy head as the purple of the king bound in the channels.
Hovedet paa dig som Karmel, dit Hoveds Lokker som Purpur; en Konge er fanget i Garnet.
6 How beautiful art thou, and how comely, my dearest, in delights!
Hvor er du fager og yndig, du elskede, yndefulde!
7 Thy stature is like to a palm tree, and thy breasts to clusters of grapes.
Som Palmen, saa er din Vækst, dit Bryst som Klaser.
8 I said: I will go up into the palm tree, and will take hold of the fruit thereof: and thy breasts shall be as the clusters of the vine: and the odour of thy mouth 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 Thy throat like the best wine, worthy for my beloved to drink, and for his lips and his teeth to ruminate.
din Gane som ædel Vin, der liflig flyder ind i min Mund, glider over mine Læber og Tænder.
10 I to my beloved, and his turning is towards me.
Jeg er min Vens, og til mig staar hans Attraa.
11 Come, my beloved, let us go forth into the field, let us abide in the villages.
Kom min Ven, vi vil ud paa Landet, blive i Landsbyer Natten over;
12 Let us get up early to the vineyards, let us see if the vineyard flourish, if the flowers be ready to bring forth fruits, if the pomegranates flourish: 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 give a smell. In our gates are all fruits: the new and the old, my beloved, I have kept for thee.
Kærlighedsæblerne dufter, for vor Dør er al Slags Frugt, ny og gammel tillige; til dig, min Ven, har jeg gemt dem.
