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.»
I enter my garden, my sister, my bride! I gather myrrh with my spice. I eat my honeycomb with my honey. I drink wine with my milk. Let us eat our fill of love! Let us be drunk with love!
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.»
Though I was asleep, my mind was racing. I heard my love knocking, and calling out, “Please open the door, my sister, my darling, my dove, my perfect love. My head is soaked with dew, my hair is wet from the night mist.”
3 «Eg hev teke av meg kjolen, skal eg klæda på meg att? Eg hev tvege mine føter, skal eg sulka deim til att?»
I replied, “I've already got undressed. I don't have to get dressed again, do I? I've already washed my feet. I don't have to make them dirty again, do I?”
4 Min ven rette handi gjenom loka inn, då kløkktest mitt hjarta for hans skuld.
My love thrust his hand into the opening. Deep inside I longed for him.
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 got up to let my love in. My hands dripped with myrrh, my fingers with liquid myrrh, as I grabbed the handles of the bolt.
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 up to my love, but he had left—he was gone! I was crushed as a result. I looked for him but I couldn't find him. I called him but he didn't answer.
7 Meg vaktaran’ møtte som i byen sveiv, dei meg slo, gav meg sår, og sløret ifrå meg dei tok, vaktaran’ på murom.
The watchmen found me as they went through the city. They beat me, they hurt me, and stole my cloak, those watchmen of the walls.
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.
Women of Jerusalem, promise me if you find my love and wonder what you should tell him, tell him I am weak with love.
9 «Kva er din ven framom andre vener, du fagraste dros? Kva er din ven framum andre, når du naudbed oss so?»
Why is the one you love better than any other, most beautiful of women? In what way is the one you love better than any other that we should promise you that?
10 «Min ven er ljosleitt og raud, utmerkt framum ti tusund.
My love has dazzling good looks and is very fit—better than ten thousand others!
11 Hovudet skiraste gull, palmegreiner er lokkarn’, svarte som ein ramn.
His head is like the finest gold, his hair is wavy and black as the raven.
12 Augo som duvor ved rennande å, dei som laugar seg i mjølk ved braddfull sjø.
His eyes are like doves beside springs of water, washed with milk and mounted like sparkling jewels.
13 Kinni som balsam-sengjer, som dåmurt-skrin. Lipporne liljor, som dryp av rennande myrra.
His cheeks are like a flowerbed of spices that produces fragrance. His lips are like lilies, dripping with liquid myrrh.
14 Henderne teiner av gull med krysolitar sette, midja av filsbein med safirar prydd.
His arms are round bars of gold inlaid with jewels. His abdomen is like carved ivory inlaid with lapis lazuli.
15 Føterne marmor-stolpar på fine gull-stettar. Som Libanon er han å sjå, som ein ceder traust.
His legs are columns of alabaster set on bases of gold. He looks strong, like the mighty cedars of Lebanon.
16 Hans munn er søt, hugnad er han all. Slik er venen og felagen min, de Jerusalems døtter.»
His mouth is the sweetest ever; he is totally desirable! This is my love, my friend, women of Jerusalem.
