Salomos Høisang 5
1 «Ja, eg kjem til min hage, mi syster, mi brur, min myrra og balsam eg plukkar, mitt brød og min honning eg et og drikk min vin og mi mjølk. Ete lagsbrør, drikk dykkar nøgd, vener.»
Bride: May my beloved enter into his garden, and eat the fruit of his apple trees. Groom to Bride: I have arrived in my garden, O my sister, my spouse. I have harvested my myrrh, with my aromatic oils. I have eaten the honeycomb with my honey. I have drunk my wine with my milk. Eat, O friends, and drink, and be inebriated, O most beloved.
2 «Eg låg og sov. Men mitt hjarta vakte, høyr! Der bankar min ven: Mi syster, min hugnad, lat upp, du mi duva, mi frægd! Mitt hovud er vått, av nattedogg lokkarne dryp.»
Bride: I sleep, yet my heart watches. The voice of my beloved knocking: Groom to Bride: Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my immaculate one. For my head is full of dew, and the locks of my hair are full of the drops of the night.
3 «Eg hev teke av meg kjolen, skal eg klæda på meg att? Eg hev tvege mine føter, skal eg sulka deim til att?»
Bride: I have taken off my tunic; how shall I be clothed in it? I have washed my feet; how shall I spoil them?
4 Min ven rette handi gjenom loka inn, då kløkktest mitt hjarta for hans skuld.
My beloved put his hand through the window, and my inner self was moved by his touch.
5 So reis eg upp, vilde opna for min ven, av handi mi myrra det draup, av fingrarne rennande myrra det flaut og på dørlåset rann.
I rose up in order to open to my beloved. My hands dripped with myrrh, and my fingers were full of the finest myrrh.
6 So opna eg døri for min ven - då venen var kvorven burt. Og hugsprengd eg tenkte på hans ord. Eg søkte, men ikkje honom fann. Eg ropa på han, men ikkje gav han svar.
I opened the bolt of my door to my beloved. But he had turned aside and had gone away. My soul melted when he spoke. I sought him, and did not find him. I called, and he did not answer me.
7 Meg vaktaran’ møtte som i byen sveiv, dei meg slo, gav meg sår, og sløret ifrå meg dei tok, vaktaran’ på murom.
The keepers who circulate through the city found me. They struck me, and wounded me. The keepers of the walls took my veil away from me.
8 Eg hjarteleg bed dykk, Jerusalems døtter, um de skulde finna min ven, - ja, kva skal de honom segja? - At sjuk av kjærleik eg er.
I bind you by oath, O daughters of Jerusalem, if you find my beloved, announce to him that I languish through love.
9 «Kva er din ven framom andre vener, du fagraste dros? Kva er din ven framum andre, når du naudbed oss so?»
Chorus to Bride: What kind of beloved is your beloved, O most beautiful among women? What kind of beloved is your beloved, so that you would bind us by oath?
10 «Min ven er ljosleitt og raud, utmerkt framum ti tusund.
Bride: My beloved is white and ruddy, elect among thousands.
11 Hovudet skiraste gull, palmegreiner er lokkarn’, svarte som ein ramn.
His head is like the finest gold. His locks are like the heights of palm trees, and as black as a raven.
12 Augo som duvor ved rennande å, dei som laugar seg i mjølk ved braddfull sjø.
His eyes are like doves, which have been washed with milk over rivulets of waters, and which reside near plentiful streams.
13 Kinni som balsam-sengjer, som dåmurt-skrin. Lipporne liljor, som dryp av rennande myrra.
His cheeks are like a courtyard of aromatic plants, sown by perfumers. His lips are like lilies, dripping with the best myrrh.
14 Henderne teiner av gull med krysolitar sette, midja av filsbein med safirar prydd.
His hands are smoothed gold, full of hyacinths. His abdomen is ivory, accented with sapphires.
15 Føterne marmor-stolpar på fine gull-stettar. Som Libanon er han å sjå, som ein ceder traust.
His legs are columns of marble, which have been established over bases of gold. His appearance is like that of Lebanon, elect like the cedars.
16 Hans munn er søt, hugnad er han all. Slik er venen og felagen min, de Jerusalems døtter.»
His throat is most sweet, and he is entirely desirable. Such is my beloved, and he is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem.
