Song of Songs 2
1 I am a flower of the plain, a lily of the valleys.
Jeg er Sarons Rose, Dalenes Lilje
2 As a lily among thorns, so is my companion among the daughters.
Som en Lilje midt iblandt Torne er min Veninde blandt Piger.
3 As the apple among the trees of the wood, so is my kinsman among the sons. I desired his shadow, and sat down, and his fruit was sweet in my throat.
Som et Æbletræ blandt Skovens Træer er min Ven blandt unge Mænd. I hans Skygge har jeg Lyst til at sidde, hans Frugt er sød for min Gane.
4 Bring me into the wine house; set love before me.
Til en Vinhal bragte han mig, hvor Mærket over mig er Kærlighed.
5 Strengthen me with perfumes, stay me with apples: for I [am] wounded with love.
Styrk mig med Rosinkager, kvæg mig med Æbler, thi jeg er syg af Kærlighed.
6 His left [hand shall be] under my head, and his right hand shall embrace me.
Hans venstre er under mit Hoved, hans højre tager mig i Favn.
7 I have charged you, you daughters of Jerusalem, by the powers and by the virtues of the field, that you do not rouse or wake [my] love, until he please.
Jeg besværger eder, Jerusalems Døtre, ved Gazeller og Markens Hjorte: Gør ikke Kærligheden Uro, væk den ikke, før den ønsker det selv!
8 The voice of my kinsman! behold, he comes leaping over the mountains, bounding over the hills.
Hør! Der er min Ven! Ja se, der kommer han i Løb over Bjergene, i Spring over Højene.
9 My kinsman is like a roe or a young hart on the mountains of Baethel: behold, he is behind our wall, looking through the windows, peeping through the lattices.
Min Ven er som en Gazel, han er som den unge Hjort. Se, nu står han alt bag vor Mur. Han ser gennem Vinduet, kigger gennem Gitteret.
10 My kinsman answers, and says to me, Rise up, come, my companion, my fair one, my dove.
Min Ven stemmer i og siger så til mig: Stå op, min Veninde, du fagre, kom!
11 For, behold, the winter is past, the rain is gone, it has departed.
Thi nu er Vinteren omme, Regntiden svandt, for hen,
12 The flowers are seen in the land; the time of pruning has arrived; the voice of the turtle-dove has been heard in our land.
Blomster ses i Landet, Sangens Tid er kommet, Turtelduens Kurren høres i vort Land;
13 The fig tree has put forth its young figs, the vines put forth the tender grape, they yield a smell: arise, come, my companion, my fair one, my dove; yes, come.
Figentræets Småfrugter svulmer, Vinstokken blomstrer, udspreder Duft. Stå op, min Veninde, du fagre, kom,
14 [You are] my dove, in the shelter of the rock, near the wall: show me your face, and cause me to hear your voice; for your voice is sweet, and your countenance is beautiful.
min Due i Fjeldets Kløfter, i Bjergvæggens Skjul! Lad mig skue din Skikkelse, høre din Røst, thi sød er din Røst og din Skikkelse yndig.
15 Take us the little foxes that spoil the vines: for our vines put forth tender grapes.
Fang os de Ræve, de Ræve små, som hærger Vinen, vor blomstrende Vin!
16 My kinsman is mine, and I am his: he feeds [his flock] among the lilies.
Min Ven er min, og jeg er hans, som vogter blandt Liljer;
17 Until the day dawn, and the shadows depart, turn, my kinsman, be you like to a roe or young hart on the mountains of the ravines.
til Dagen svales og Skyggerne længes, kom hid, min Ven, og vær som Gazellen, som den unge Hjort på duftende Bjerge!
