The Song of Songs - Toller, Eva

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"Lyrics translated by Eva Toller from the old Swedish Bible version."

◈ Genre → Hymnen ♬ Besetzung → SATB ¶ Sprache → Englisch

Stimmen 4

Instrumente A cappella

Seiten 18

CPDL Nr. 12351

Bearbeiter Eva Toller

Veröffentlicht 2006-08-21

Lizenz Personal

Schlagwörter

Pages_using_DynamicPageList3_parser_function Posted_in_August_2006 More_than_90_days_old More_than_30_days_old CPDL_123xy

¶Liedtext

Kisses I will drink out of his mouth! Your love is sweeter than wine. I am beautiful and black, you daughters of Jerusalem, black like the tents of Kedar, like Shalma's cabins. Tell me, my soul's beloved, where do you keep your flock and where do you stay at the noon time, dear, so that I will not go astray among the herds of your friends. If you want to know, most beautiful of women, follow the traces of my sheep and let your lambs graze in the pasture by the shepherds' camp. You are so fair, my soul's beloved, you are so fair! Like two doves your lovely eyes are. You are so fair, my friend, you are delightful. Green is our bed and encampment, cedars are like beams in our house, the cypresses our walls. I am a flower on Sharon's plain, a lily in the valley. Like a lily among thistles is my beloved among the women. Like an apple tree in the wilderness is my friend among all the young men. Delightful is to sit in its shadow, its fruits are sweet on my tongue. Hear, my friend comes to meet me. He runs over the mountain, dancing towards me over the hills. My friend is like a gazelle, like a young stag. He stands beside our doorway, looks into the window, through the lattice he gazes. My friend is calling me: Come! Come my soul's beloved! Outside, pretty maiden, to me! Winter has ended, all the cold rains have ceased. Flowers bloom in meadows, all the Earth is singing, hear the turtle-dove in our land. Ripening are the figs, blossoming is the fragrant vine. Come my soul's beloved! Outside, pretty maiden, to me! My dove among mountain clefts, in the ledge on the hillside, let me see you, hear you call out to me. Your voice is sweet, and your face is so fair. My friend is mine, and I am his, he who pastures his herd among lilies. Until the morning wind has arrived, and 'til the shadows have fled, you can roam like a young stag or a gazelle in the mountains. Who is she who comes from the desert in a pillar of smoke? You are so fair, my soul's beloved, you are so