Højsangen 7
1 Hvor skønne er dine Trin i Skoene, du ædelbårne! Dine Hofters Runding er som Halsbånd, Kunstnerhånds Værk,
Chorus to Bride: How beautiful are your footsteps in shoes, O daughter of a ruler! The joints of your thighs are like jewels, which have been fabricated by the hand of an artist.
2 dit Skød som det runde Bæger, ej savne det Vin, dit Liv som en Hvededynge, hegnet af Liljer;
Your navel is a round bowl, never lacking in curvature. Your abdomen is like a bundle of wheat, surrounded with lilies.
3 dit Bryst som to Hjortekalve, Gazelletvillinger,
Your two breasts are like two young twin does.
4 din Hals som Elfenbenstårnet, dine Øjne som Hesjbons damme ved Bat-Rabbims Port, din Næse som Libanons Tårn, der ser mod Damaskus,
Your neck is like a tower of ivory. Your eyes like the fish ponds at Heshbon, which are at the entrance to the daughter of the multitude. Your nose is like the tower of Lebanon, which looks out toward Damascus.
5 Hovedet på dig som Karmel, dit Hoveds Lokker som Purpur; en Konge er fanget i Garnet.
Your head is like Carmel, and the hairs of your head are like the purple of the king, bound into pleats.
6 Hvor er du fager og yndig, du elskede, yndefulde!
Most beloved one, how beautiful you are, and how graceful in delights!
7 Som Palmen, så er din Vækst, dit Bryst som Klaser.
Your stature is comparable to the 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 Ånde som Æbleduft,
Groom: I said, I will ascend to the palm tree, and take hold of its fruit. And your breasts will be like clusters of grapes on the vine. And the fragrance of your mouth will be like apples.
9 din Gane som ædel Vin, der liflig flyder ind i min Mund, glider over mine Læber og Tænder.
Bride: Your throat is like the finest wine: wine worthy for my beloved to drink, and for his lips and teeth to contemplate.
10 Jeg er min Vens, og til mig står hans Attrå.
I am for my beloved, and his turning is to me.
11 Kom min Ven, vi vil ud på Landet, blive i Landsbyer Natten over;
Approach, my beloved. Let us go out into the field; let us linger in the villages.
12 Vingårde søger vi årle, vi ser, om Vinstokken skyder, om Knopperne åbnes, Granattræet blomstrer. Der giver jeg dig min Kærlighed.
Let us go up in the morning to the vineyards; let us see if the vineyard has flourished, if the flowers are ready to bear fruit, if the pomegranates have flourished. There I will give my breasts to you.
13 Kærlighedsæblerne dufter, for vor Dør er al Slags Frugt, ny og gammel tillige; til dig, min Ven, har jeg gemt dem.
The mandrakes yield their fragrance. At our gates is every fruit. The new and the old, my beloved, I have kept for you.
