Song of Solomon 2
1 I am a rose of Sharon. A lily of the valleys.
Niĩ ndĩ ihũa rĩa Sharoni, ningĩ gĩtoka gĩa ituamba-inĩ.
2 As a lily among thorns, So is my love among the daughters.
O ta gĩtoka kĩrĩ mĩigua-inĩ-rĩ, nĩguo mwendwa wakwa atariĩ arĩ gatagatĩ ka airĩtu arĩa angĩ.
3 As the apple tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his shadow with great delight, and his fruit was sweet to my taste.
O ta mũtĩ wa mũtunda ũrĩ mĩtĩ-inĩ ya gĩthaka-rĩ, nĩguo mũnyendi atariĩ arĩ gatagatĩ ka aanake arĩa angĩ. Ngenagĩra gũikara kĩĩgunyĩ-inĩ gĩake, namo matunda make ngĩmacama njiguaga marĩ mũrĩo.
4 He brought me to the banquet house, and his banner over me was love.
Nĩandoonyetie nyũmba nene ĩrĩa ĩrĩĩagĩrwo iruga, nayo bendera ĩrĩa ahaicĩtie igũrũ rĩakwa nĩ wendo.
5 Sustain ye me with raisins, refresh me with apples, for I am sick from love.
Njĩkĩrai hinya na thabibũ iria nyũmithie, mũnjerũhĩrie hinya na matunda, nĩ ũndũ ndĩ mũcuce nĩ wendo.
6 His left hand is under my head, and his right hand embraces me.
Guoko gwake kwa ũmotho akũigĩte rungu rwa mũtwe wakwa, nakuo guoko gwake kwa ũrĩo gũkaahĩmbĩria.
7 I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, or by the hinds of the field, that ye stir not up, nor awake love, until it please.
Inyuĩ aarĩ a Jerusalemu, ndamwĩhĩtithia na thiiya, na mĩgoma ya thwariga cia werũ-inĩ atĩrĩ: Mũtikoimbuthũre wendo o na kana mũwarahũre, o nginya wĩrirĩrie kwarahũka guo mwene.
8 The voice of my beloved! Behold, he comes, leaping upon the mountains, skipping upon the hills.
Ta thikĩrĩria, ũcio nĩ mwendwa wakwa! Ta rora! Ĩĩ nĩwe ũyũ ũroka, akĩrũgaga akĩrĩire irĩma-inĩ, arooka agĩtũrũhaga tũrĩma-inĩ.
9 My beloved is like a roe or a young hart. Behold, he stands behind our wall. He looks in at the windows. He glances through the lattice.
Mwendwa wakwa ahaana ta thiiya, kana ta thwariga ĩrĩa nyanake. Ta kĩrore! Nĩwe ũũrĩa ũrũngiĩ thuutha wa rũthingo rwitũ, ararorera ndirica-inĩ, agacũthĩrĩria mĩanya-inĩ.
10 My beloved spoke, and said to me, Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.
Mwendwa wakwa aaririe akĩnjĩĩra atĩrĩ, “Mũrata wakwa, o wee mũthaka, ũkĩra tũthiĩ.
11 For, lo, the winter is past. The rain is over and gone.
Atĩrĩrĩ! Hĩndĩ ya heho nĩ thiru; nayo mbura nĩĩkĩĩte ĩgatiga kuura.
12 The flowers appear on the earth. The time of the singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land.
Nĩ hĩndĩ mahũa marakunũka thĩ; ihinda rĩa kũina nĩikinyu, mĩgambo ya ndutura nĩĩraiguuo bũrũri-inĩ witũ.
13 The fig tree ripens her green figs, and the vines are in blossom. They give forth their fragrance. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.
Mũkũyũ-rĩ, nĩũrutĩte ngũyũ cia mbere; mĩthabibũ ĩrĩa ĩratumũra kĩro nĩĩraruta mũtararĩko wayo wega. Ũkĩra, ũka mũrata wakwa; o wee wakwa mũthaka, ũkĩra tũthiĩ.”
14 O my dove, who are in the clefts of the rock, in the covert of the steep place, let me see thy countenance; let me hear thy voice. For sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely.
Ndutura yakwa wee ũrĩ mĩatũka-inĩ ya rwaro rwa ihinga, kũu ciĩhitho-inĩ cia hurũrũka cia irĩma, nyonia ũthiũ waku, ta reke njigue mũgambo waku; nĩ ũndũ mũgambo waku nĩ mwororo, na ũthiũ waku nĩ mũthaka.
15 Take us the foxes, the little foxes, that spoil the vineyards. For our vineyards are in blossom.
Tũnyitĩrei mbwe, o tũbwe tũu tũnini, tũrĩa tũthũkagia mĩgũnda ya mĩthabibũ, o mĩthabibũ ĩyo iitũ ĩratumũra kĩro.
16 My beloved is mine, and I am his. He feeds among the lilies.
Mwendwa wakwa nĩ wakwa na niĩ ndĩ wake; arĩithagia kũrĩa kũrĩ itoka.
17 Until the day be cool, and the shadows flee away, turn, my beloved, and be thou like a roe or a young hart upon the mountains of Bether.
Hũndũka nginya rĩrĩa kũrĩĩrura, nacio ciĩruru ciirĩrie. Hũndũka mwendwa wakwa, tuĩka ta thiiya, kana ta thwariga nyanake, ĩrĩ irĩma-inĩ cia Betheri.
