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.
Ɛhe na wo dɔfoɔ no korɔ mmaa ahoɔfɛfoɔ mu ahoɔfɛ? Ɛhe na wo dɔfoɔ dane faeɛ, na yɛne wo nkɔhwehwɛ no?
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.
Me dɔfoɔ kɔ ne turo mu, faako a pɛperɛ nkofie wɔ hɔ, ɔkɔkyinkyini turo no mu akɔboaboa sukooko ano.
3 I belong to my beloved and he belongs to me; he pastures his flock among the lilies.
Me dɔfoɔ yɛ me dea, na me nso me wɔ no; ɔkyinkyin sukooko no mu.
4 You are as beautiful, my darling, as Tirzah, as lovely as Jerusalem, as majestic as troops with banners.
Me dɔfoɔ, wo ho yɛ fɛ te sɛ Tirsa, wʼahoɔfɛ te sɛ Yerusalem, wosi pi te sɛ asraafoɔ a wɔretu frankaa.
5 Turn your eyes away from me, for they have overcome me. Your hair is like a flock of goats streaming down from Gilead.
Ɛnhwɛ me saa; wo ma me yɛ basaa. Wo tirinwi te sɛ mpapokuo a wɔresiane firi Gilead.
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.
Wo se te sɛ nnwankuo a wɔatwitwa wɔn ho nwi foforɔ, a wɔfiri adwareɛ. Wɔnam mmienu mmienu na wɔn mu biara nyɛ ankonam.
7 Your brow behind your veil is like a slice of pomegranate.
Wʼasontorɔ mu a ɛhyɛ wo nkatanimu mu te sɛ ateaa aduaba fa.
8 There are sixty queens and eighty concubines, and maidens without number,
Ebia na ɔyerenom yɛ aduosia, mpenafoɔ bɛyɛ aduɔwɔtwe, ne mmabaawa dodoɔ a wɔntumi nkan wɔn;
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.
nanso mʼaborɔnoma a ne ho nni asɛm da mu fua; ɔno nko ara ne ne maame babaa, ɔno na deɛ ɔwoo no no pɛ nʼasɛm. Mmabaawa hunu no no, wɔfrɛɛ no nhyira; ahemaa ne mpenafoɔ kamfoo no.
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?
Hwan na wapue sɛ ahemadakye yi, ɔyɛ frɔmm sɛ ɔsrane, na ɔhyerɛn sɛ owia, nʼanimuonyam te sɛ nsoromma a wɔsa so.
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.
Mesiane kɔɔ nnuaba pɔ mu hɔ sɛ merekɔhwehwɛ afifideɛ foforɔ a ɛwɔ bɔnhwa no mu, sɛ bobe no agu nhyerɛnne anaasɛ ateaa no ayɛ frɔmm.
12 Before I realized it, my desire had set me among the royal chariots of my people.
Mʼani baa me ho so no na mʼadwene de me abɛsi me nkurɔfoɔ adehyeɛ nteaseɛnam so.
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?
Sane wʼakyi, sane wʼakyi, Ao, Sulamit abaayewa; Sane bra, sane bra ma yɛn nhwɛ wo! Aberanteɛ: Adɛn enti na ɛsɛ sɛ mohwɛ Sulamit abaayewa sɛdeɛ mohwɛ Mahanaim asa?
