Song of Solomon 6
1 Where has your beloved gone, most beautiful among women? In what direction has your beloved gone, so that we may seek him with you?
«Kvar helst er han gjengen, din ven, du fagraste dros? Kvar helst hev din ven svive av, so me kann leita med deg?»
2 My beloved has gone down to his garden, to the beds of spices, to graze in the garden and to gather lilies.
«Min ven gjekk til hagen sin ned, til balsam-sengjer, til å gjæta i hagom og liljor sanka.»
3 I am my beloved's, and my beloved is mine; he grazes among the lilies with pleasure.
«Min ven er min og eg er hans, han som gjæter millom liljor.»
4 You are as beautiful as Tirzah, my love, as lovely as Jerusalem, as awe-inspiring as an army with its banners.
«Du er fager, du min hugnad, som Tirsa, som Jerusalem er du frid, som herfylgje ageleg.
5 Turn your eyes away from me, for they overwhelm me. Your hair is like a flock of goats going down from the slopes of Gilead.
Snu augo dine ifrå meg, for dei magtstel meg. Ditt hår er ein geiteflokk likt, ned Gilead renn.
6 Your teeth are like a flock of ewes coming up from the washing place. Each one has a twin, and none among them is bereaved.
Dine tenner ein flokk med sauer, komne upp or laug, med tvillingar alle, utan lamb er ingen.
7 Your cheeks are like pomegranate halves behind your veil.
Som eit granateple-brot din tinning glytter fram attum slør.
8 There are sixty queens, eighty concubines, and young women without number.
Seksti dronningar, åtteti fylgjekvende, av møyar ein endelaus lyd.
9 My dove, my undefiled, is the only one; she is the only daughter of her mother; she is the favorite one of the woman who bore her. The young women saw her and called her blessed; the queens and the concubines saw her also, and they praised her:
Men ei einast’ mi duva, mi frægd, einaste barnet til mor, brikna hennar som henne åtte. Ho vert sælka av møyar, henne ser, av dronningar og fylgjekvende lova.»
10 “Who is this who appears like the dawn, as beautiful as the moon, as bright as the sun, as awe-inspiring as an army with its banners?”
«Kven er ho som lik morgonroden gloser, som fullmånen fager, brikjeleg som sol, som herfylgje ageleg?»
11 I went down into the grove of nut trees to see the young growth in the valley, to see whether the vines had budded, and whether the pomegranates were in bloom.
«Eg gjekk ned i natahagen, vilde sjå kor det grønkast i dale, vilde sjå um vintreet spratt, um granateple-treet bar blom.
12 I was so happy that I felt I was riding in the chariot of a prince.
Eg visste’kje av, fyrr hugen meg drog og meg sette på mitt gjæve folks vogn.»
13 Turn back, turn back, you perfect woman; turn back, turn back so that we may gaze on you. The woman speaking to the friends Why do you gaze on the perfect woman, as if on the dance between two armies?
«Å, snu deg, snu deg, Sulammit! Snu deg, snu deg, so me deg ser.» «Kva er det å sjå på Sulammit?» «Ein dans som i Mahanajim.»
