Song of Songs 2
1 I am a flower of the plain, a lily of the valleys.
Ndiri ruva reSharoni, ruva romumipata.
2 As a lily among thorns, so is my companion among the daughters.
Seruva riri pakati peminzwa, ndizvo zvakaita mudiwa wangu pakati pemhandara.
3 As the apple among the trees of the wood, so is my kinsman among the sons. I desired his shadow, and sat down, and his fruit was sweet in my throat.
Somuti womuapuro pakati pemiti yesango, ndizvo zvawakaita mudiwa wangu pakati pamajaya. Ndinofarira kugara mumumvuri wake, uye muchero wake unondinakira kuudya.
4 Bring me into the wine house; set love before me.
Akaenda neni kuimba yamabiko, uye mureza wake pamusoro pangu ndirwo rudo.
5 Strengthen me with perfumes, stay me with apples: for I [am] wounded with love.
Ndisimbise namazambiringa akaomeswa, ndisimbise namaapuro; nokuti ndoziya norudo.
6 His left [hand shall be] under my head, and his right hand shall embrace me.
Ruoko rwake rworuboshwe rwuri pasi pomusoro wangu, uye ruoko rwake rworudyi rwakandimbundikira.
7 I have charged you, ye daughters of Jerusalem, by the powers and by the virtues of the field, that ye do not rouse or wake [my] love, until he please.
Imi vanasikana veJerusarema ndinokupikirai nemhara uye nenondo dzesango: Musazunguza kana kumutsa rudo kusvikira irwo rwada rwoga.
8 The voice of my kinsman! behold, he comes leaping over the mountains, bounding over the hills.
Inzwai! Inzwi romudiwa wangu! Tarirai! Hoyo ouya achiuruka nomumakomo, achikwakuka nomuzvikomo.
9 My kinsman is like a roe or a young hart on the mountains of Baethel: behold, he is behind our wall, looking through the windows, peeping through the lattices.
Mudiwa wangu akafanana nemhara kana netsvana yenondo. Tarirai! Hoyo amira seri kworusvingo rwedu, akatarira napamawindo achidongorera napamaburi apamawindo.
10 My kinsman answers, and says to me, Rise up, come, my companion, my fair one, my dove.
Mudiwa wangu akataura kwandiri akati, “Simuka, mudiwa wangu, iwe munakunaku wangu, uya tiende tose.
11 For, behold, the winter is past, the rain is gone, it has departed.
Tarira! Nguva yechando yapera; mvura yapera; uye haichanayi.
12 The flowers are seen in the land; the time of pruning has arrived; the voice of the turtle-dove has been heard in our land.
Maruva oonekwa panyika; nguva yokuimba yasvika, kurira kwenjiva kwonzwikwa munyika yedu.
13 The fig-tree has put forth its young figs, the vines put forth the tender grape, they yield a smell: arise, come, my companion, my fair one, my dove; yea, come.
Muonde wobereka michero yawo yokutanga; uye mizambiringa yotunga maruva ayo anonhuhwira kwazvo. Simuka, uya, mudiwa wangu; munakunaku wangu, uya tiende tose.”
14 [Thou art] my dove, in the shelter of the rock, near the wall: shew me thy face, and cause me to hear thy voice; for thy voice is sweet, and thy countenance is beautiful.
Njiva yangu iri mumikaha yedombo, munzvimbo dzokuvanda mumativi egomo, ndiratidze chiso chako, ndinoda kunzwa inzwi rako; nokuti inzwi rako rinotapira, uye chiso chako chinoyevedza.
15 Take us the little foxes that spoil the vines: for our vines put forth tender grapes.
Tibatirei makava, ivo vana vemakava anoparadza minda yemizambiringa, iyo mizambiringa yedu yotunga maruva.
16 My kinsman is mine, and I am his: he feeds [his flock] among the lilies.
Mudiwa wangu ndewangu uye ndiri wake; anofamba-famba pakati pamaruva omubani.
17 Until the day dawn, and the shadows depart, turn, my kinsman, be thou like to a roe or young hart on the mountains of the ravines.
Kusvikira zuva rabuda uye mimvuri yatiza, pinduka, mudiwa, ubve waita semhara kana tsvana pamusoro pezvikomo.
