Song of Solomon 6
1 Where has your beloved gone, O most beautiful among women? Which way has he turned? We will seek him with you.
Wee mũthaka gũkĩra andũ-a-nja arĩa angĩ othe-rĩ, mwendwa waku athiĩte kũ? Mwendwa waku arorire na kũ, nĩguo tũmũcarie nawe?
2 My beloved has gone down to his garden, to the beds of spices, to pasture his flock in the gardens and to gather lilies.
Mwendwa wakwa aikũrũkire mũgũnda-inĩ wake, o tũmĩgũnda-inĩ tũrĩa tũtumanĩte mahuti marĩa manungi wega, athiĩte kũrĩithia kũu mĩgũnda-inĩ, agĩtuaga mahũa ma itoka.
3 I belong to my beloved and he belongs to me; he pastures his flock among the lilies.
Niĩ ndĩ wa mwendwa wakwa, nake nĩ wakwa; we arĩithagia itoka-inĩ.
4 You are as beautiful, my darling, as Tirzah, as lovely as Jerusalem, as majestic as troops with banners.
Wee mwendwa wakwa, ũrĩ mũthaka, o ta bũrũri wa Tiriza, ũrĩ wa kwendeka o ta Jerusalemu, na ũkamakania o ta ita rĩrĩ na bendera.
5 Turn your eyes away from me, for they have overcome me. Your hair is like a flock of goats streaming down from Gilead.
Wĩhũgũre na kũngĩ, ũtige kũndora; maitho maku nĩmarahoota. Njuĩrĩ yaku no ta rũũru rwa mbũri rũgĩikũrũka Kĩrĩma kĩa Gileadi.
6 Your teeth are like a flock of sheep coming up from the washing; each has its twin, and not one of them is lost.
Magego maku mahaana ta rũũru rwa ngʼondu ikĩambata ciumĩte gũthambio. O ĩmwe yacio ĩrĩ na ihatha rĩayo, hatirĩ o na ĩmwe yacio ĩrĩ iiki.
7 Your brow behind your veil is like a slice of pomegranate.
Thĩa ciaku ihaana ta ciatũ igĩrĩ cia itunda rĩa mũkomamanga, ikĩonerwo hau taama-inĩ ũcio ũkũhumbĩrĩte ũthiũ.
8 There are sixty queens and eighty concubines, and maidens without number,
No gũkorwo na atumia athamaki mĩrongo ĩtandatũ, na thuriya mĩrongo ĩnana, na airĩtu gathirange matangĩtarĩka;
9 but my dove, my perfect one, is unique, the favorite of the mother who bore her. The maidens see her and call her blessed; the queens and concubines sing her praises.
no ndutura yakwa, ũcio wakwa ũtarĩ ũcuuke-rĩ, gũtirĩ ũngĩ mahaanaine, nowe mũirĩtu wa nyina wiki, o we gĩtũnio kĩa ũcio mũmũciari. Airĩtu maamuonire makĩmwĩta mũrathime; nao atumia athamaki o na thuriya makĩmũkumia.
10 Who is this who shines like the dawn, as fair as the moon, as bright as the sun, as majestic as the stars in procession?
Nũũ ũyũ ũroimĩra ta ruoro rũgĩtema, athakarĩte ta mweri, na agathera ta riũa, arĩ na ũkengu ta wa njata irũrũnganĩte?
11 I went down to the walnut grove to see the blossoms of the valley, to see if the vines were budding or the pomegranates were in bloom.
Nĩndĩraikũrũkire mũgũnda wa mĩkombokombo, ngarore tũmĩtĩ tũrĩa tũmerete kũu gĩtuamba-inĩ, nĩguo nyone kana mĩthabibũ nĩĩthundũrĩte, o na kana mĩkomamanga nĩĩrutĩte kĩro.
12 Before I realized it, my desire had set me among the royal chariots of my people.
O na itanamenya ũrĩa gũtariĩ-rĩ, merirĩria ma ngoro yakwa marandwara gatagatĩ-inĩ ka ngaari cia mũthamaki cia ita cia andũ aitũ.
13 Come back, come back, O Shulammite! Come back, come back, that we may gaze upon you. Why do you look at the Shulammite, as on the dance of Mahanaim?
Cooka, cooka, wee Mũshulamu; cooka, cooka, nĩgeetha tũkwĩrorere! Mwendani Mũkwenda kwĩrorera Mũshulamu ũyũ nĩkĩ, taarĩ rwĩmbo rwa Mahanaimu mũreerorera?
