Song of Solomon 2
1 I am the flower of the field, and the lily of the valleys.
Niĩ ndĩ ihũa rĩa Sharoni, ningĩ gĩtoka gĩa ituamba-inĩ.
2 As the lily among thorns, so is my love among the daughters.
O ta gĩtoka kĩrĩ mĩigua-inĩ-rĩ, nĩguo mwendwa wakwa atariĩ arĩ gatagatĩ ka airĩtu arĩa angĩ.
3 As the apple tree among the trees of the woods, so is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his shadow, whom I desired: and his fruit was sweet to my palate.
O ta mũtĩ wa mũtunda ũrĩ mĩtĩ-inĩ ya gĩthaka-rĩ, nĩguo mũnyendi atariĩ arĩ gatagatĩ ka aanake arĩa angĩ. Ngenagĩra gũikara kĩĩgunyĩ-inĩ gĩake, namo matunda make ngĩmacama njiguaga marĩ mũrĩo.
4 He brought me into the cellar of wine, he set in order charity in me.
Nĩandoonyetie nyũmba nene ĩrĩa ĩrĩĩagĩrwo iruga, nayo bendera ĩrĩa ahaicĩtie igũrũ rĩakwa nĩ wendo.
5 Stay me up with flowers, compass me about with apples: because I languish with love.
Njĩkĩrai hinya na thabibũ iria nyũmithie, mũnjerũhĩrie hinya na matunda, nĩ ũndũ ndĩ mũcuce nĩ wendo.
6 His left hand is under my head, and his right hand shall embrace me.
Guoko gwake kwa ũmotho akũigĩte rungu rwa mũtwe wakwa, nakuo guoko gwake kwa ũrĩo gũkaahĩmbĩria.
7 I adjure you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, and the harts of the, fields, that you stir not up, nor make the beloved to awake, till she please.
Inyuĩ aarĩ a Jerusalemu, ndamwĩhĩtithia na thiiya, na mĩgoma ya thwariga cia werũ-inĩ atĩrĩ: Mũtikoimbuthũre wendo o na kana mũwarahũre, o nginya wĩrirĩrie kwarahũka guo mwene.
8 The voice of my beloved, behold he cometh leaping upon the mountains, skipping over the hills.
Ta thikĩrĩria, ũcio nĩ mwendwa wakwa! Ta rora! Ĩĩ nĩwe ũyũ ũroka, akĩrũgaga akĩrĩire irĩma-inĩ, arooka agĩtũrũhaga tũrĩma-inĩ.
9 My beloved is like a roe, or a young hart. Behold he standeth behind our wall, looking through the windows, looking through the lattices.
Mwendwa wakwa ahaana ta thiiya, kana ta thwariga ĩrĩa nyanake. Ta kĩrore! Nĩwe ũũrĩa ũrũngiĩ thuutha wa rũthingo rwitũ, ararorera ndirica-inĩ, agacũthĩrĩria mĩanya-inĩ.
10 Behold my beloved speaketh to me: Arise, make haste, my love, my dove, my beautiful one, and come.
Mwendwa wakwa aaririe akĩnjĩĩra atĩrĩ, “Mũrata wakwa, o wee mũthaka, ũkĩra tũthiĩ.
11 For winter is now past, the rain is over and gone.
Atĩrĩrĩ! Hĩndĩ ya heho nĩ thiru; nayo mbura nĩĩkĩĩte ĩgatiga kuura.
12 The flowers have appeared in our land, the time of pruning is come: the voice of the turtle is heard in our land:
Nĩ hĩndĩ mahũa marakunũka thĩ; ihinda rĩa kũina nĩikinyu, mĩgambo ya ndutura nĩĩraiguuo bũrũri-inĩ witũ.
13 The fig tree hath put forth her green figs: the vines in flower yield their sweet smell. Arise, my love, my beautiful one, and come:
Mũkũyũ-rĩ, nĩũrutĩte ngũyũ cia mbere; mĩthabibũ ĩrĩa ĩratumũra kĩro nĩĩraruta mũtararĩko wayo wega. Ũkĩra, ũka mũrata wakwa; o wee wakwa mũthaka, ũkĩra tũthiĩ.”
14 My dove in the clefts of the rock, in the hollow places of the wall, shew me thy face, let thy voice sound in my ears: for thy voice is sweet, and thy face comely.
Ndutura yakwa wee ũrĩ mĩatũka-inĩ ya rwaro rwa ihinga, kũu ciĩhitho-inĩ cia hurũrũka cia irĩma, nyonia ũthiũ waku, ta reke njigue mũgambo waku; nĩ ũndũ mũgambo waku nĩ mwororo, na ũthiũ waku nĩ mũthaka.
15 Catch us the little foxes that destroy the vines: for our vineyard hath flourished.
Tũnyitĩrei mbwe, o tũbwe tũu tũnini, tũrĩa tũthũkagia mĩgũnda ya mĩthabibũ, o mĩthabibũ ĩyo iitũ ĩratumũra kĩro.
16 My beloved to me, and I to him who feedeth among the lilies,
Mwendwa wakwa nĩ wakwa na niĩ ndĩ wake; arĩithagia kũrĩa kũrĩ itoka.
17 Till the day break, and the shadows retire. Return: be like, my beloved, to a roe, or to a young hart upon the mountains of Bether.
Hũndũka nginya rĩrĩa kũrĩĩrura, nacio ciĩruru ciirĩrie. Hũndũka mwendwa wakwa, tuĩka ta thiiya, kana ta thwariga nyanake, ĩrĩ irĩma-inĩ cia Betheri.
