Hásongurin kap. 8

Uppsetan
Bíbliu útgáva
American Standard Version EN Danska Bíblian DK King James Version EN Victor Danielsen FO
Tema
Ljóst tema Myrkt tema
Skriftstødd
Lítil Miðal Stór
Fleir
Strong's Orð Jesusar í reyðum Yvirskriftir
d. Longing for Her Beloved
8:1-14:1
1 Oh that thou wert as my brother, That sucked the breasts of my mother! When I should find thee without, I would kiss thee; Yea, and none would despise me.
2 I would lead thee, and bring thee into my mother’s house, Who would instruct me; I would cause thee to drink of spiced wine, Of the juice of my pomegranate.
3 His left hand should be under my head, And his right hand should embrace me.
4 I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, That ye stir not up, nor awake my love, Until he please.
5 Who is this that cometh up from the wilderness, Leaning upon her beloved? Under the apple-tree I awakened thee: There thy mother was in travail with thee, There was she in travail that brought thee forth.
6 Set me as a seal upon thy heart, As a seal upon thine arm: For love is strong as death; Jealousy is cruel as Sheol; The flashes thereof are flashes of fire, A very flame of Jehovah.
7 Many waters cannot quench love, Neither can floods drown it: If a man would give all the substance of his house for love, He would utterly be contemned.
8 We have a little sister, And she hath no breasts: What shall we do for our sister In the day when she shall be spoken for?
9 If she be a wall, We will build upon her a turret of silver: And if she be a door, We will inclose her with boards of cedar.
10 I am a wall, and my breasts like the towers thereof Then was I in his eyes as one that found peace.
11 Solomon had a vineyard at Baal-hamon; He let out the vineyard unto keepers; Every one for the fruit thereof was to bring a thousand pieces of silver.
12 My vineyard, which is mine, is before me: Thou, O Solomon, shalt have the thousand, And those that keep the fruit thereof two hundred.
13 Thou that dwellest in the gardens, The companions hearken for thy voice: Cause me to hear it.
14 Make haste, my beloved, And be thou like to a roe or to a young hart Upon the mountains of spices.
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