Song of Solomon 5
1 I have come to 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, and drink; drink freely, O beloved.
Fa nimoak’ amy golobokoy iraho, ry zaiko, enga-vaoko; fa natontoko ty rameko naho o mañi-dèkoo; fa nihaneko ty papi-tanteleko naho ty tanteleko; fa ninomeko ty divaiko naho ty rononoko. Mikamà, ry rañetseo, naho minoma; minoma am-pidadañe, ry mpikokoo.
2 I sleep, but my heart is awake. A sound! My beloved is knocking: “Open to me, my sister, my darling, my dove, my flawless one. My head is drenched with dew, my hair with the dampness of the night.”
Niroro iraho fe nañente ty troko. Inay! Mañonkòñe i kokoakoy: Sokafo iraho ry zaiko, mami’ty fiaiko, ty dehoko, ginoke tsy aman-kila. Kotsa’ ty zono ty lohako, ty voloko ami’ty hamandoa’ i haleñey.
3 I have taken off my robe— must I put it back on? I have washed my feet— must I soil them again?
Fa nafahako ty saroko— mbe haombeko hao? Fa sinasako o tombokoo— mbe ho lotoeko hao?
4 My beloved put his hand to the latch; my heart pounded for him.
Nazili’ i kokoakoy ami’ty hiri’ i sikadañey ty fità’e; vaho nampiponaponake o añ’ovako ao.
5 I rose up to open for my beloved. My hands dripped with myrrh, my fingers with flowing myrrh on the handles of the bolt.
Niongake iraho hanokàfako i kokoakoy, nitsopatsopake rame o tañakoo, rame mitsiritsioke o rambo-tañakoo, amo fitanañ’ i sikadañeio.
6 I opened for my beloved, but he had turned and gone. My heart sank at his departure. I sought him, but did not find him. I called, but he did not answer.
Nisokafeko i kokoakoy, fe nitolik’ ane i kokoakoy, fa nienga; toe nilesa ty troko amy saontsi’ey; pinaiko fe tsy nahatrea, kinoiko fe tsy nanoiñe.
7 I encountered the watchmen on their rounds of the city. They beat me and bruised me; they took away my cloak, those guardians of the walls.
Nitendrek’ ahy o mpigaritseo, ie nañariofe’ iereo i rovay; linafa’ iereo, vinonotrobo’ iereo; tinava’ o mpigari-kijolio i sarokoy!
8 O daughters of Jerusalem, I adjure you, if you find my beloved, tell him I am sick with love.
Ry anak’ ampela’ Ierosalaimeo, ifantako, naho isa’ areo i kokoakoy, ino ty hisaontsia’ areo? Izaho toiram-pikokoañe.
9 How is your beloved better than others, O most beautiful among women? How is your beloved better than another, that you charge us so?
Mpikoko manao akore i mpikoko azoy, ry hatrenotrenon’ ampelao? Mpikoko manao akore i mpikoko azoy, ie namantok’ anay.
10 My beloved is dazzling and ruddy, outstanding among ten thousand.
Miloeloe i kokoakoy mbore volovoloeñe, miambak’ ami’ty alen-dahy.
11 His head is purest gold; his hair is wavy and black as a raven.
Volamena hiringiri’e ty añambone’e; mitaporetaporetse o maroi’eo, hamaintem-bolon-drelove.
12 His eyes are like doves beside the streams of water, bathed in milk and mounted like jewels.
Hoe deho añ’olon-torahañe eo o fihaino’eo, sinasa an-dronono, soa fimoneñe am-pitoboha’eo.
13 His cheeks are like beds of spice, towers of perfume. His lips are like lilies, dripping with flowing myrrh.
Hoe tihin-ahemañitse, kijolin-kamañirañe, o fiambina’eo; vinda mitsopake rame o soñi’eo.
14 His arms are rods of gold set with beryl. His body is an ivory panel bedecked with sapphires.
Bodam-bolamena o fità’eo, ibangoan’ tarsise, hoe te nifen-drimo nivàñeñe, niravahañe safira ty fañòva’e.
15 His legs are pillars of marble set on bases of pure gold. His appearance is like Lebanon, as majestic as the cedars.
Bodan-tsinihara nandreketam-bolamena ki’e o fandia’eo. Manahak’ i Libanone ty vinta’e, ami’ ty hasoa’ o mendorave’eo.
16 His mouth is most sweet; he is altogether lovely. This is my beloved, and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem.
Loho mamy ty falie’e; vata’e mahasinda; ie i kokoakoy naho i rañekoy, ry anak’ampela’ Ierosalaimeo.
