Visoka pesem 2
1 Jaz sem vrtnica Šaróna in dolinska lilija.
I am the flower of the field, and the lily of the valleys.
2 Kakor lilija med trnjem, tako je moja ljubezen med hčerami.
As the lily among thorns, so is my love among the daughters.
3 Kakor jablana med gozdnimi drevesi, tak je moj ljubljeni med sinovi. Z velikim veseljem sem se usedla pod njeno senco in njen sad je bil sladek mojemu okusu.
As the apple tree among the trees of the woods, so is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his shadow, whom I desired: and his fruit was sweet to my palate.
4 Privedel me je v hišo gostije in njegov prapor nad menoj je bila ljubezen.
He brought me into the cellar of wine, he set in order charity in me.
5 Potešite me s flaškoni, tolažite me z jabolki, kajti jaz sem bolna od ljubezni.
Stay me up with flowers, compass me about with apples: because I languish with love.
6 Njegova leva roka je pod mojo glavo in njegova desnica me objema.
His left hand is under my head, and his right hand shall embrace me.
7 Naročam vam, oh ve hčere jeruzalemske, pri srnah in pri poljskih košutah, da ne razvnamete niti ne zbudite moje ljubezni, dokler njemu ugaja.
I adjure you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, and the harts of the, fields, that you stir not up, nor make the beloved to awake, till she please.
8 Glas mojega ljubljenega! Glej, prihaja, skače na gorah, poskakuje po hribih.
The voice of my beloved, behold he cometh leaping upon the mountains, skipping over the hills.
9 Moj ljubljeni je podoben srni ali mlademu jelenu. Glej, stoji za našim zidom, gleda pri oknih, kaže se skozi mrežo.
My beloved is like a roe, or a young hart. Behold he standeth behind our wall, looking through the windows, looking through the lattices.
10 Moj ljubljeni je spregovoril in mi rekel: »Vstani, moja ljubezen, moja lepotica in odleti.
Behold my beloved speaketh to me: Arise, make haste, my love, my dove, my beautiful one, and come.
11 Kajti glej, zima je minila, dež je mimo in je izginil.
For winter is now past, the rain is over and gone.
12 Cvetlice se pojavljajo na zemlji, prišel je čas petja ptic in glas grlice se sliši v naši deželi,
The flowers have appeared in our land, the time of pruning is come: the voice of the turtle is heard in our land:
13 figovo drevo poganja svoje zelene fige in trte z nežnim grozdjem dajejo dober vonj. Vstani, moja ljubezen, moja lepotica in odleti.
The fig tree hath put forth her green figs: the vines in flower yield their sweet smell. Arise, my love, my beautiful one, and come:
14 Oh moja golobica, ki si v skalnih razpokah, na skrivnih krajih stopnic, naj vidim tvoje obličje, naj slišim tvoj glas, kajti tvoj glas je prijeten in tvoje obličje je ljubko.«
My dove in the clefts of the rock, in the hollow places of the wall, shew me thy face, let thy voice sound in my ears: for thy voice is sweet, and thy face comely.
15 Ujemite nama lisice, majhne lisice, ki plenijo trte, kajti najine trte imajo nežno grozdje.
Catch us the little foxes that destroy the vines: for our vineyard hath flourished.
16 Moj ljubljeni je moj in jaz sem njegova, on pase med lilijami.
My beloved to me, and I to him who feedeth among the lilies,
17 Dokler se ne zdani in sence [ne] odletijo, se obrni, moj ljubljeni in bodi podoben srni ali mlademu jelenu na gorah Beterja.
Till the day break, and the shadows retire. Return: be like, my beloved, to a roe, or to a young hart upon the mountains of Bether.
