Højsangen 7
1 Hvor skønne er dine Trin i Skoene, du ædelbaarne! Dine Hofters Runding er som Halsbaand, Kunstnerhaands Værk,
How beautiful are your feet with shoes, O prince's daughter! the joints of your thighs are like jewels, the work of the hands of a cunning workman.
2 dit Skød som det runde Bæger, ej savne det Vin, dit Liv som en Hvededynge, hegnet af Liljer;
Your navel is like a round goblet, which wants not liquor: your belly is like an heap of wheat set about with lilies.
3 dit Bryst som to Hjortekalve, Gazelletvillinger,
Your two breasts are like two young roes that are twins.
4 din Hals som Elfenbenstaarnet, dine Øjne som Hesjbons Damme ved Bat-Rabbims Port, din Næse som Libanons Taarn, der ser mod Damaskus,
Your neck is as a tower of ivory; your eyes like the pool in Heshbon, by the gate of Bathrabbim: your nose is as the tower of Lebanon which looks toward Damascus.
5 Hovedet paa dig som Karmel, dit Hoveds Lokker som Purpur; en Konge er fanget i Garnet.
your head upon you is like Carmel, and the hair of your head like purple; the king is held in the galleries.
6 Hvor er du fager og yndig, du elskede, yndefulde!
How fair and how pleasant are you, O love, for delights!
7 Som Palmen, saa er din Vækst, dit Bryst som Klaser.
This your stature is like to a palm tree, and your breasts to clusters of grapes.
8 Jeg tænker: Jeg vil op i Palmen, gribe fat i dens Stilke; dit Bryst skal være som Vinstokkens Klaser, din Næses Aande som Æbleduft,
I said, I will go up to the palm tree, I will take hold of the boughs thereof: now also your breasts shall be as clusters of the vine, and the smell of your nose like apples;
9 din Gane som ædel Vin, der liflig flyder ind i min Mund, glider over mine Læber og Tænder.
And the roof of your mouth like the best wine for my beloved, that goes down sweetly, causing the lips of those that are asleep to speak.
10 Jeg er min Vens, og til mig staar hans Attraa.
I am my beloved's, and his desire is toward me.
11 Kom min Ven, vi vil ud paa Landet, blive i Landsbyer Natten over;
Come, my beloved, let us go forth into the field; let us lodge in the villages.
12 Vingaarde søger vi aarle, vi ser, om Vinstokken skyder, om Knopperne aabnes, Granattræet blomstrer. Der giver jeg dig min Kærlighed.
Let us get up early to the vineyards; let us see if the vine flourish, whether the tender grape appear, and the pomegranates bud forth: there will I give you my loves.
13 Kærlighedsæblerne dufter, for vor Dør er al Slags Frugt, ny og gammel tillige; til dig, min Ven, har jeg gemt dem.
The mandrakes give a smell, and at our gates are all manner of pleasant fruits, new and old, which I have laid up for you, O my beloved.
