Song of Solomon 7
1 How beautiful are thy footsteps in sandals, O prince's daughter! The roundings of thy thighs are like jewels, The work of the hands of an artist.
Fanjaka o fandia’o mihànao, ry anak’ ampelan-droandria! hoe hange nitoloñem-pitàm-pitsene mahimbañe ty hahomozohozom-pe’o.
2 Thy navel is a round goblet, [which] wanteth not mixed wine; Thy belly a heap of wheat, set about with lilies;
Fitovy bontoly ty foe’o, ie le lia’e tsy po-divay milaro; fitoboron’ ampemba iarikatoham-binda o araña’oo.
3 Thy two breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle;
Fanaloke tora’e o fatroa’oo, ana-kambam-panalon-drene’e.
4 Thy neck is as a tower of ivory; Thine eyes, [like] the pools in Heshbon, By the gate of Bath-rabbim; Thy nose like the tower of Lebanon, Which looketh toward Damascus;
Hoe fitilik’abo aman-tsifan-drimo ty fititia’o. O antara’ i Kesbone marine’ i lalam-bei’ i Bate-Rabimeio o fihaino’oo. I fitilik’abo’ i Libanoney mitolike mbe Damesèke ty fiantsona’o.
5 Thy head upon thee is like Carmel, And the locks of thy head like purple; The king is fettered by [thy] ringlets!
Misabaka azo manahake i vohi-Karmeley ty añambone’o, le mahasinda i mpanjakay o firandra’eo.
6 How fair and how pleasant art thou, [my] love, in delights!
Akore ty hatsomerentsere’o naho ty hatrenotreno’o ry kokoako, toe mahafale!
7 This thy stature is like to a palm-tree, And thy breasts to grape clusters.
Mitroatse hoe voanio ty sandri’o, le mitoboro hoe o voa’eo o fatroa’oo.
8 I said, I will go up to the palm-tree, I will take hold of the boughs thereof; And thy breasts shall indeed be like clusters of the vine, And the fragrance of thy nose like apples,
Aa hoe iraho: Hanganiheko i voanioy, naho ho rambeseko o voa’eo; fa hanahake ty voam-bahe o fatroa’oo, naho minday ty harifondrifom-boasare ty sehaseha’o,
9 And the roof of thy mouth like the best wine, ...That goeth down smoothly for my beloved, And stealeth over the lips of them that are asleep.
Hoe divay fanjaka ty lañilañi’o; malama ty fisorogoda’e ho a i kokoakoy, hoe mitsiritsioke mora am-pivimbim-pirotse.
10 I am my beloved's, And his desire is toward me.
A i kokoakoy raho naho amako ty fañiria’e.
11 — Come, my beloved, let us go forth into the fields; Let us lodge in the villages.
Antao, kokoako, homb’ an-kaloke mb’eo, hialeñe amo kialoo.
12 We will go up early to the vineyards, We will see if the vine hath budded, [If] the blossom is opening, And the pomegranates are in bloom: There will I give thee my loves.
Antao hañaleñaleñe mb’an-tanem-bahe mb’eo handrèndreke ty fibotibotia’ o vaheo, ke te miborake o voñe’eo, hera mamolera o raketao; ao ty hanjotsoako ama’o ty hateako, ry kokoako.
13 The mandrakes yield fragrance; And at our gates are all choice fruits, new and old: I have laid them up for thee, my beloved.
Mañakatse ty hañi’e o vahenamaloo, hene raha mafiry ty an-tsariran-tikañe eo, ty vao naho ty haehae, songa nahajako ho azo, ry kokoako.
