Wer Mamit 4
1 Mano kaka ijaber, jaherana! Yaye, mano kaka ijaber! Wengeni neno mamuol ka akuru. Yie wiyi chalo gi kweth mag diek, malor koa e Got Gilead.
[HE] Lo! thou art beautiful, my fair one, Lo! thou art beautiful, Thine eyes, are doves, from behind thy veil, —Thy hair, is like a flock of goats, which are reclining on the sides of Mount Gilead:
2 Lekeni tar mana ka kweth mag rombe makoro eka oliel yiegi kendo mowuok kar luok. Moro ka moro wuotho gi nyithinde ma rude, kendo onge moro man kende.
Thy teeth, are like a flock, evenly grown, which have come up from the washing-place, —whereof, all of them, are twin-bearers, and bereaved, is none among them:
3 Pien dhogi chalo gi law marakwaro; kendo dhogi ber ahinya. Lembi moum gi law yom machalo mana gi olemo mongʼinore.
Like a cord of crimson, are thy lips, and, thy mouth, is lovely, —Like a slice of pomegranate, are thy temples, behind thy veil:
4 Ngʼuti chalo gi osuch Daudi, mochungʼ tir gi chia; kuode alufu achiel oliero kuome, ma kargi duto gin kuodi mag jokedo.
Like the tower of David, is thy neck, built for war, —A thousand shields, hung thereon, all, equipment of heroes:
5 Thundeni chalo gi nyithi mwanda ariyo maromre adier gichalo gi nyithind mwanda ma rude, makwayo e kind ondanyo.
Thy two breasts, are like two young roes, twins of a gazelle, —which pasture among lilies.
6 Ka piny oseyawore kendo rumbi oserumo, eka abiro dhi ewi got kuma gik madungʼ tik mangʼwe ngʼar yudoree kendo nyaka ewi gode matindo miwangʼoe ubani.
Until the day, breathe, and the shadows, be lengthened, I will get me unto the mountain of myrrh, and unto the hill of frankincense.
7 Ijaber e yore duto, jaherana; onge mbala moro amora e dendi.
Thou art, all over, beautiful, my fair one, and, blemish, is there none in thee.
8 Yaye jaherana, bi wadhi kodi ka waa e got Lebanon, adier bi koda walor ka waa Lebanon. Lor piny ia e chuny got Amana, lor ia ewi got mar Senir gi Hermon, wuog e bur sibuoche kendo wuog ewi got kama kwach oloko miechgi.
With me, from Lebanon, O bride, with me, from Lebanon, shalt thou enter, —Thou shalt look round from the top of Amana, from the top of Senir, and Hermon, from the dens of lions, from the mountains of leopards.
9 Yaye jaherana, ka aneno kaka ingʼiya, kod tigo malich miliero e ngʼuti, to chunya rumo.
Thou hast encouraged me, my sister, bride, —thou hast encouraged me, with one [glance] of thine eyes, with one ornament of thy neck.
10 Mano kaka herani miya mor, yaye osiepna, ma ahero; mano kaka herani kelo mor mangʼeny moloyo divai, kendo ngʼwe ngʼar moloyo modhi mamoko duto!
How beautiful are thy caresses, my sister, bride, —how much more delightful thy caresses, than wine, and the fragrance of thine oils, than all spices:
11 Yaye jaherana, pien dhogi mit ka mor kich; lewi chalona chak kata mor kich. Lewni mirwako dungʼ tik mamit mana ka tik mamit mar got Lebanon.
With sweetness, thy lips do drip, O bride, —Honey and milk, are under thy tongue, and, the fragrance of thy garments, is like the fragrance of Lebanon.
12 Yaye jaherana, ichalo gi puodho mochiel; kendo ka soko molor dhoge modin motegno.
A garden barred, is my sister, bride, —a spring barred, a fountain sealed:
13 Yiende madongo e puothi gin olembe mongʼinore, molembegi beyo, kendo mit kaka olemb hena kod nad.
Thy buddings forth, are a paradise of pomegranates, with precious fruits, —henna bushes, with nard blossoms:
14 Gin olembe mopogore opogore kaka nad kod safron, gi kalmas kod sinamon, kod yedhe mangʼwe ngʼar, kaka ubani gi mane-mane, kod apilo mamit mag tedo.
Nard and saffron, sweet cane and cinnamon, with all woods of frankincense, —myrrh and aloes, with all the chiefs of spices:
15 Ichalo gi puodho ma thidhna ni e iye, bende ichalo gi soko mar pi mamol, kendo ichalo gi aore mamol kawuok ewi gode mag Lebanon.
A garden fountain, a well of living waters, —and flowings from Lebanon.
16 Wuogi ka ikudho, in yamb nyandwat, bende in yamb milambo kudhi! Kudhi e puotha, mondo tikne okere malach. We jaherana koro obi odonji e puothe kendo obil olembene moyiedhi kendo mamit.
[SHE] Awake, O north wind, and come in, thou south, Fan my garden—its balsams, will flow out, —Let my beloved enter his garden, and eat his precious fruits.
