Song of Songs 5
1 Let my kinsman come down into his garden, and eat the fruit of his choice berries. I am come into my garden, my sister, [my] spouse: I have gathered my myrrh with my spices; I have eaten my bread with my honey; I have drunk my wine with my milk. Eat, O friends, and drink; yes, brethren, drink abundantly.
Jeg kommer i min Have, min Søster, min Brud, jeg plukker min Myrra og Balsam, jeg spiser min Honning og Saft, jeg drikker min Vin og Mælk. Venner, spis og drik og berus jer i Kærlighed!
2 I sleep, but my heart is awake: the voice of my kinsman knocks at the door, [saying], Open, open to me, my companion, my sister, my dove, my perfect one: for my head is filled with dew, and my locks with the drops of the night.
Jeg sov, men mit hjerte våged; tys, da banked min ven: "Luk op for mig, o Søster, min Veninde, min Due, min rene, thi mit Hoved er fuldt af Dug, mine Lokker af Nattens Dråber."
3 I have put off my coat; how shall I put it on? I have washed my feet, how shall I defile them?
Jeg har taget min Kjortel af, skal jeg atter tage den på? Jeg har tvættet mine Fødder, skal jeg atter snavse dem til?
4 My kinsman put forth his hand by the hole [of the door], and my belly moved for him.
Gennem Gluggen rakte min Ven sin Hånd, det brusede stærkt i mit Indre.
5 I rose up to open to my kinsman; my hands dropped myrrh, my fingers choice myrrh, on the handles of the lock.
Jeg stod op og åbned for min Ven; mine Hænder drypped af Myrra, mine Fingre af flydende Myrra, da de rørte ved Låsens Håndtag.
6 I opened to my kinsman; my kinsman was gone: my soul failed at his speech: I sought him, but found him not; I called him, but he answered me not.
Så lukked jeg op for min Ven, men min Ven var gået sin Vej. Jeg var ude af mig selv ved hans Ord. Jeg søgte, men fandt ham ikke, kaldte, han svared mig ikke.
7 The watchman that go their rounds in the city found me, they struck me, they wounded me; the keepers of the walls took away my veil from me.
Vægterne, som færdes i Byen, traf mig, de slog og såred mig; Murens Vægtere rev Kappen af mig.
8 I have charged you, O daughters of Jerusalem, by the powers and the virtues of the field: if you should find my kinsman, what are you to say to him? That I am wounded with love.
Jeg besværger eder, Jerusalems Døtre: Såfremt I finder min Ven, hvad skal I da sige til ham? At jeg er syg af Kærlighed!
9 What is your kinsman [more] than [another] kinsman, O you beautiful among women? what is your kinsman [more] than [another] kinsman, that you have so charged us?
"Hvad Fortrin har da, din Ven, du fagreste, blandt Kvinder? Hvad Fortrin har da din Ven, at du besværger os så?"
10 My kinsman is white and ruddy, chosen out from myriads.
Min Ven er hvid og rød, herlig blandt Titusinder,
11 His head is [as] very fine gold, his locks are flowing, black as a raven.
hans Hoved er det fineste Guld, hans Lokker er Ranker, sorte som Ravne,
12 His eyes are as doves, by the pools of waters, washed with milk, sitting by the pools.
hans Øjne som Duer ved rindende Bække, badet i Mælk og siddende ved Strømme,
13 His cheeks are as bowls of spices pouring forth perfumes: his lips are lilies, dropping choice myrrh.
hans Kinder som Balsambede; Skabe med Vellugt, hans Læber er Liljer, de drypper, af flydende Myrra,
14 His hands are as turned gold set with beryl: his belly is an ivory tablet on a sapphire stone.
hans Hænder er Stænger af Guld, fyldt med Rubiner, hans Liv en Elfenbensplade, besat med Safirer,
15 His legs are marble pillars set on golden sockets: his form is as Libanus, choice as the cedars.
hans Ben er Søjler af Marmor På Sokler af Guld, hans Skikkelse som Libanon, herlig som Cedre,
16 His throat is most sweet, and altogether desirable. This is my kinsman, and this is my companion, O daughters of Jerusalem.
hans Gane er Sødme, han er idel Ynde. Sådan er min elskede, sådan min Ven, Jerusalems Døtre.
