Song of Solomon 2
1 I am the flower of the field, and the lily of the valleys.
Abụ m okoko osisi ọhịa nke Sharọn, na okoko lili nke na-epu na ndagwurugwu.
2 As the lily among thorns, so is my love among the daughters.
E, dịka okoko lili nke na-epu nʼetiti ogwu, otu a ka ọmasịrị m dị nʼetiti ụmụ agbọghọ ndị ọzọ.
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.
Onye m hụrụ nʼanya dịka osisi apụl, nʼetiti osisi na-amị mkpụrụ nʼọhịa, mgbe e ji ya tụnyere ụmụ okorobịa ndị ọzọ. Ọ na-enye m obi ụtọ ịnọ nʼokpuru ndo ya, mkpụrụ ya dịkwa ụtọ nʼọnụ.
4 He brought me into the cellar of wine, he set in order charity in me.
Ka ọ kpọrọ m jee nʼụlọ oriri, ka ọkọlọtọ ya nʼekpuchi m bụrụ ịhụnanya.
5 Stay me up with flowers, compass me about with apples: because I languish with love.
Were mkpụrụ osisi a mịkpọrọ amịkpọ gbaa m ume; werekwa mkpụrụ osisi apụl mee ka ahụ m dị ike, nʼihi na abụ m onye ịhụnanya mere ka ike gwụsịa.
6 His left hand is under my head, and his right hand shall embrace me.
Aka ekpe ya dị nʼokpuru isi m, aka nri ya na-ejikụ m.
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.
Unu ụmụ agbọghọ Jerusalem, eji m nne mgbada niile na nne ele ọhịa niile na-agba unu iyi sị: Unu akpọtela maọbụ mee ka ịhụnanya teta, ruo mgbe ọ masịrị ya.
8 The voice of my beloved, behold he cometh leaping upon the mountains, skipping over the hills.
Gee ntị! Onye m hụrụ nʼanya! Lee ya ka ọ na-abịa, na-amali elu nʼelu ugwu niile, na-amafekwa nʼelu ugwu nta niile.
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.
Onye m hụrụ nʼanya yiri mgbada, o yiri nwa ele. Lee ya ka ọ na-eguzo nʼazụ mgbidi anyị, ọ na-esikwa na oghereikuku na nʼoghere dị ya na-elebata anya.
10 Behold my beloved speaketh to me: Arise, make haste, my love, my dove, my beautiful one, and come.
Onye m hụrụ nʼanya gwara m okwu sị m, “Bilie, onye ihe ya na-atọ m ụtọ, onye m mara mma, soro m.
11 For winter is now past, the rain is over and gone.
Lee, oge oyi agafeela, udu mmiri agabigakwala.
12 The flowers have appeared in our land, the time of pruning is come: the voice of the turtle is heard in our land:
Okoko osisi epupụtala nʼala; oge eji agụ egwu eruokwala, a na-anụ abụ nduru nʼala anyị niile.
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:
Mkpụrụ osisi fiig ebidola ịmịpụta mkpụrụ ya nke mbụ, isi osisi vaịnị na-amịpụta okoko na-esiju ebe niile. Bilie, ma bịa, ọmasịrị m. Onye nke m mara mma! Bịa ka i sooro m.”
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.
Nduru m nọ nʼọgba nkume, nʼebe nzuzo nke akụkụ ugwu, gosi m ihu gị, mee ka m nụ olu gị, nʼihi na olu gị dị ụtọ, ihu gị makwara mma.
15 Catch us the little foxes that destroy the vines: for our vineyard hath flourished.
Jidenụ nkịta ọhịa, ụmụ nkịta ọhịa niile na-emebiri anyị ubi, ọ bụladị ubi vaịnị anyị na-agbawa okoko.
16 My beloved to me, and I to him who feedeth among the lilies,
Onye m hụrụ nʼanya bụ nke m, mụ onwe m bụkwa nke ya. Ọ na-azụ igwe atụrụ ya nʼetiti okoko urodi,
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.
tutu chi ụtụtụ abọọ mgbe onyinyo niile na-agabigakwa. Tụgharịa, onye m hụrụ nʼanya, dị ka mgbada maọbụ nwa ele nke nọ nʼelu ugwu.
