Song of Solomon 5
1 I have come into my garden, my sister, my bride. I have gathered my myrrh with my spice. I have eaten my honeycomb with my honey. I have drunk my wine with my milk. Eat, O friends. Drink, yea. Drink abundantly, O beloved.
«Mǝn ɵz beƣimƣa kirdim, Mening singlim, mening jɵrǝm; Murmǝkkǝmni tetitⱪulirim bilǝn yiƣdim, Ⱨǝrǝ kɵnikimni ⱨǝsilim bilǝn yedim; Xarabimni sütlirim bilǝn iqtim». «Dostlirim, yǝnglar! Iqinglar, kɵnglünglǝr haliƣanqǝ iqinglar, i axiⱪ-mǝxuⱪlar!»
2 I was asleep, but my heart awoke. It is the voice of my beloved who knocks, saying, Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled. For my head is filled with dew, my locks with the drops of the night.
«Mǝn uhlawatattim, biraⱪ kɵnglüm oyƣaⱪ idi: — — Sɵyümlükümning awazi! Mana, u ixikni ⱪeⱪiwatidu: — — «Manga eqip bǝr, i singlim, i amriⱪim; Mening pahtikim, mening ƣubarsizim; Qünki bexim xǝbnǝm bilǝn, Qaqlirim keqidiki nǝmlik bilǝn ⱨɵl-ⱨɵl bolup kǝtti!»
3 I have put off my garment, how shall I put it on? I have washed my feet, how shall I defile them?
«Mǝn tɵxǝk kiyimlirimni seliwǝtkǝn, Ⱪandaⱪmu uni yǝnǝ kiyiwalay? Mǝn putlirimni yudum, Ⱪandaⱪmu ularni yǝnǝ bulƣay?»
4 My beloved put in his hand by the hole of the door, and my heart was moved for him.
Sɵyümlüküm ⱪolini ixik tɵxükidin tiⱪti; Mening iq-baƣrilirim uningƣa tǝlmürüp kǝtti;
5 I rose up to open to my beloved, and my hands drops with myrrh, and my fingers with liquid myrrh, upon the handles of the bolt.
Sɵyümlükümgǝ eqixⱪa ⱪoptum; Ⱪollirimdin murmǝkki, Barmaⱪlirimdin suyuⱪ murmǝkki temidi, Taⱪaⱪning tutⱪuqliri üstigǝ temidi;
6 I opened to my beloved, but my beloved had withdrawn himself, and was gone. My soul had failed me when he spoke. I sought him, but I could not find him. I called him, but he gave me no answer.
Sɵyümlükümgǝ aqtim; Biraⱪ sɵyümlüküm burulup, ketip ⱪalƣanidi. U sɵz ⱪilƣanda roⱨim qiⱪip kǝtkǝnidi; Uni izdidim, biraⱪ tapalmidim; Uni qaⱪirdim, biraⱪ u jawab bǝrmidi;
7 The watchmen who go about the city found me. They smote me, they wounded me. The keepers of the walls took away my mantle from me.
Xǝⱨǝrni aylinidiƣan jesǝkqilǝr meni uqritip meni urdi, meni yarilandurdi; Sepillardiki kɵzǝtqilǝr qümpǝrdǝmni mǝndin tartiwaldi.
8 I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if ye find my beloved, that ye tell him that I am sick from love.
I Yerusalem ⱪizliri, sɵyümlükümni tapsanglar, Uningƣa nemǝ dǝysilǝr? Uningƣa, sɵygining: «Mǝn muⱨǝbbǝttin zǝiplixip kǝttim! — dedi, dǝnglar».
9 What is thy beloved more than another beloved, O thou fairest among women? What is thy beloved more than another beloved, that thou do so adjure us?
«Sening sɵyümlüküngning baxⱪa bir sɵyümlüktin ⱪandaⱪ artuⱪ yeri bar, I, ayallar arisidiki ǝng güzili? Sening sɵyümlüküngning baxⱪa bir sɵyümlüktin ⱪandaⱪ artuⱪ yeri bar? — Sǝn bizgǝ xundaⱪ tapiliƣanƣu?».
10 My beloved is white and ruddy, the chief among ten thousand.
«Mening sɵyümlüküm ap’aⱪ wǝ parⱪiraⱪ, yürǝklik ǝzimǝt, On ming arisida tuƣdǝk kɵrünǝrliktur;
11 His head is the most fine gold. His locks are bushy, black as a raven.
Uning bexi sap altundindur, Budur qaqliri atning yaylidǝk, Taƣ ⱪaƣisidǝk ⱪara.
12 His eyes are like doves beside the water-brooks, washed with milk, fitly set.
Uning kɵzliri eⱪinlar boyidiki pahtǝklǝrdǝk, Süt bilǝn yuyulƣan, Yarixiⱪida ⱪoyulƣan;
13 His cheeks are as a bed of spices, banks of sweet herbs. His lips are lilies, dropping liquid myrrh.
Uning mǝngziliri bir tǝxtǝk puraⱪliⱪ ɵsümlüktǝktur; Ayniƣan yeⱪimliⱪ güllüktǝk; Uning lǝwliri nilupǝr, Ular suyuⱪ murmǝkkini temitidu;
14 His hands are rings of gold set with beryl. His body is ivory work overlaid with sapphires.
Uning ⱪolliri altun turubilar, Iqigǝ beril yaⱪutlar ⱪuyulƣan. Ⱪorsiⱪi nǝⱪixlik pil qixliridin yasalƣan, Kɵk yaⱪutlar bilǝn bezǝlgǝn.
15 His legs are pillars of marble, set upon sockets of fine gold. His aspect is like Lebanon, excellent as the cedars.
Uning putliri mǝrmǝr tüwrüklǝr, Altun üstigǝ tiklǝngǝn. Uning salapiti Liwanningkidǝk, Kedir dǝrǝhliridǝk kɵrkǝm-ⱨǝywǝtliktur.
16 His mouth is most sweet. Yea, he is altogether lovely. This is my beloved, and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem.
Uning aƣzi bǝkmu xerindur; Bǝrⱨǝⱪ, u pütünlǝy güzǝldur; Bu mening sɵyümlüküm, — Bǝrⱨǝⱪ, bu mening amriⱪim, I Yerusalem ⱪizliri!»
