Song of Solomon 2
1 I am a rose of Sharon, a lily of the valleys.
Jeg er Sarons Rose, Dalenes Lilje.
2 As a lily among thorns, so is my love among the daughters.
Som en Lilje midt iblandt Torne er min Veninde blandt Piger.
3 As the apple tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his shadow with great delight, his fruit was sweet to my taste.
Som et Æbletræ blandt Skovens Træer er min Ven blandt unge Mænd. I hans Skygge har jeg Lyst til at sidde, hans Frugt er sød for min Gane.
4 He brought me to the banquet hall. His banner over me is love.
Til en Vinhal bragte han mig, hvor Mærket over mig er Kærlighed.
5 Strengthen me with raisins, refresh me with apples; for I am faint with love.
Styrk mig med Rosinkager, kvæg mig med Æbler, thi jeg er syg af Kærlighed.
6 His left hand is under my head. His right hand embraces me.
Hans venstre er under mit Hoved, hans højre tager mig i Favn.
7 I adjure you, daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, or by the hinds of the field, that you not stir up, nor awaken love, until it so desires.
Jeg besværger eder, Jerusalems Døtre, ved Gazeller og Markens Hjorte: Gør ikke Kærligheden Uro, væk den ikke, før den ønsker det selv!
8 The voice of my beloved! Behold, he comes, leaping on the mountains, skipping on the hills.
Hør! Der er min Ven! Ja se, der kommer han i Løb over Bjergene, i Spring over Højene.
9 My beloved is like a roe or a young deer. Behold, he stands behind our wall! He looks in at the windows. He glances through the lattice.
Min Ven er som en Gazel, han er som den unge Hjort. Se, nu staar han alt bag vor Mur. Han ser gennem Vinduet, kigger gennem Gitteret.
10 My beloved spoke, and said to me, “Rise up, my love, my beautiful one, and come away.
Min Ven stemmer i og siger saa til mig: Staa op, min Veninde, du fagre, kom!
11 For behold, the winter is past. The rain is over and gone.
Thi nu er Vinteren omme, Regntiden svandt, for hen,
12 The flowers appear on the earth. The time of the singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land.
Blomster ses i Landet, Sangens Tid er kommet, Turtelduens Kurren høres i vort Land;
13 The fig tree ripens her green figs. The vines are in blossom. They give out their fragrance. Arise, my love, my beautiful one, and come away.”
Figentræets Smaafrugter svulmer, Vinstokken blomstrer, udspreder Duft. Staa op, min Veninde, du fagre, kom,
14 My dove in the clefts of the rock, in the hiding places of the mountainside, let me see your face. Let me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet and your face is lovely.
min Due i Fjeldets Kløfter, i Bjergvæggens Skjul! Lad mig skue din Skikkelse, høre din Røst, thi sød er din Røst og din Skikkelse yndig.
15 Catch for us the foxes, the little foxes that plunder the vineyards; for our vineyards are in blossom.
Fang os de Ræve, de Ræve smaa, som hærger Vinen, vor blomstrende Vin!
16 My beloved is mine, and I am his. He browses among the lilies.
Min Ven er min, og jeg er hans, som vogter blandt Liljer;
17 Until the day is cool, and the shadows flee away, turn, my beloved, and be like a roe or a young deer on the mountains of Bether.
til Dagen svales og Skyggerne længes, kom hid, min Ven, og vær som Gazellen, som den unge Hjort paa duftende Bjerge!
