Song of Solomon 2
1 I am the flower of the field, and the lily of the valleys.
Ndiri ruva reSharoni, ruva romumipata.
2 As the lily among thorns, so is my love among the daughters.
Seruva riri pakati peminzwa, ndizvo zvakaita mudiwa wangu pakati pemhandara.
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.
Somuti womuapuro pakati pemiti yesango, ndizvo zvawakaita mudiwa wangu pakati pamajaya. Ndinofarira kugara mumumvuri wake, uye muchero wake unondinakira kuudya.
4 He brought me into the cellar of wine, he set in order charity in me.
Akaenda neni kuimba yamabiko, uye mureza wake pamusoro pangu ndirwo rudo.
5 Stay me up with flowers, compass me about with apples: because I languish with love.
Ndisimbise namazambiringa akaomeswa, ndisimbise namaapuro; nokuti ndoziya norudo.
6 His left hand is under my head, and his right hand shall embrace me.
Ruoko rwake rworuboshwe rwuri pasi pomusoro wangu, uye ruoko rwake rworudyi rwakandimbundikira.
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.
Imi vanasikana veJerusarema ndinokupikirai nemhara uye nenondo dzesango: Musazunguza kana kumutsa rudo kusvikira irwo rwada rwoga.
8 The voice of my beloved, behold he cometh leaping upon the mountains, skipping over the hills.
Inzwai! Inzwi romudiwa wangu! Tarirai! Hoyo ouya achiuruka nomumakomo, achikwakuka nomuzvikomo.
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.
Mudiwa wangu akafanana nemhara kana netsvana yenondo. Tarirai! Hoyo amira seri kworusvingo rwedu, akatarira napamawindo achidongorera napamaburi apamawindo.
10 Behold my beloved speaketh to me: Arise, make haste, my love, my dove, my beautiful one, and come.
Mudiwa wangu akataura kwandiri akati, “Simuka, mudiwa wangu, iwe munakunaku wangu, uya tiende tose.
11 For winter is now past, the rain is over and gone.
Tarira! Nguva yechando yapera; mvura yapera; uye haichanayi.
12 The flowers have appeared in our land, the time of pruning is come: the voice of the turtle is heard in our land:
Maruva oonekwa panyika; nguva yokuimba yasvika, kurira kwenjiva kwonzwikwa munyika yedu.
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:
Muonde wobereka michero yawo yokutanga; uye mizambiringa yotunga maruva ayo anonhuhwira kwazvo. Simuka, uya, mudiwa wangu; munakunaku wangu, uya tiende tose.”
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.
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 Catch us the little foxes that destroy the vines: for our vineyard hath flourished.
Tibatirei makava, ivo vana vemakava anoparadza minda yemizambiringa, iyo mizambiringa yedu yotunga maruva.
16 My beloved to me, and I to him who feedeth among the lilies,
Mudiwa wangu ndewangu uye ndiri wake; anofamba-famba pakati pamaruva omubani.
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.
Kusvikira zuva rabuda uye mimvuri yatiza, pinduka, mudiwa, ubve waita semhara kana tsvana pamusoro pezvikomo.
