Song of Solomon 6

Whither is thy beloved gone, O thou fairest among women? whither is thy beloved turned aside? that we may seek him with thee.
Hvor er din Ven gået hen, du fagreste blandt Kvinder? Hvor har din ven vendt sig hen? Vi vil søge ham med dig.
My beloved is gone down into his garden, to the beds of spices, to feed in the gardens, and to gather lilies.
Min Ven gik ned i sin Have, ti lBalsambedene, for at vogte sin Hjord i Haverne og sanke Liljer.
I am my beloved's, and my beloved is mine: he feedeth among the lilies.
Jeg er min Vens, og min Ven er min, han, som vogter blandt Liljer.
Thou art beautiful, O my love, as Tirzah, comely as Jerusalem, terrible as an army with banners.
Du er fager, min Veninde, som Tirza, yndig som Jerusalem, frygtelig som Hære under Banner.
Turn away thine eyes from me, for they have overcome me: thy hair is as a flock of goats that appear from Gilead.
Vend dine Øjne fra mig, de forvirrer mig så! Dit Hår er som en Gedeflok, bølgende ned fra Gilead.
Thy teeth are as a flock of sheep which go up from the washing, whereof every one beareth twins, and there is not one barren among them.
dine Tænder som en Fåreflok, der kommer fra Bad, som alle har Tvillinger, intet er uden Lam;
As a piece of a pomegranate are thy temples within thy locks.
din Tinding er et bristet Granatæble bag ved dit Slør.
There are threescore queens, and fourscore concubines, and virgins without number.
Dronningernes Tal er tresindstyve, Medhustruernes firsindstyve, på Terner er der ej Tal.
My dove, my undefiled is but one; she is the only one of her mother, she is the choice one of her that bare her. The daughters saw her, and blessed her; yea, the queens and the concubines, and they praised her.
Men een er hun, min Due, min rene, hun, sin Moders eneste, hun, sin Moders Kælebarn. Blev hun set af Piger, fik hun Pris, af Dronninger og Medhustruer Hyldest.
Who is she that looketh forth as the morning, fair as the moon, clear as the sun, and terrible as an army with banners?
Hvo er hun, der titter frem som Morgenrøden, fager som Månen, skær som Solen, frygtelig som Hære under Banner?
I went down into the garden of nuts to see the fruits of the valley, and to see whether the vine flourished, and the pomegranates budded.
Jeg gik ned i Nøddehaven for at se, hvor det grønnes i Dale for at se, om Vintræet skød, om Granattræet nu stod i Blomst.
Or ever I was aware, my soul made me like the chariots of Amminadib.
Før jeg vidste af det, satte min Sjæl mig på mit ædle Folks Vogne.
Return, return, O Shulamite; return, return, that we may look upon thee. What will ye see in the Shulamite? As it were the company of two armies.
Vend dig, vend dig, Sulamit, vend dig, vend dig, så vi kan se dig!"Hvad vil I se på Sulamit, mens Sværddansen trædes?"