Song of Solomon 5
1 Let my beloved come into his garden, and eat the fruit of his apple trees. I am come into my garden, O my sister, my spouse, I have gathered my myrrh, with my aromatical spices: I have eaten the honeycomb with my honey, I have drunk my wine with my milk: eat, O friends, and drink, and be inebriated, my dearly beloved.
«Men öz béghimgha kirdim, Méning singlim, méning jörem; Murmekkemni tétitqulirim bilen yighdim, Here könikimni hesilim bilen yédim; Sharabimni sütlirim bilen ichtim». «Dostlirim, yenglar! Ichinglar, könglüngler xalighanche ichinglar, i ashiq-meshuqlar!»
2 I sleep, and my heart watcheth; the voice of my beloved knocking: Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled: for my head is full of dew, and my locks of the drops of the nights.
«Men uxlawatattim, biraq könglüm oyghaq idi: — — Söyümlükümning awazi! Mana, u ishikni qéqiwatidu: — — «Manga échip ber, i singlim, i amriqim; Méning paxtikim, méning ghubarsizim; Chünki béshim shebnem bilen, Chachlirim kéchidiki nemlik bilen höl-höl bolup ketti!»
3 I have put off my garment, how shall I put it on? I have washed my feet, how shall I defile them?
«Men töshek kiyimlirimni séliwetken, Qandaqmu uni yene kiyiwalay? Men putlirimni yudum, Qandaqmu ularni yene bulghay?»
4 My beloved put his hand through the key hole, and my bowels were moved at his touch.
Söyümlüküm qolini ishik töshükidin tiqti; Méning ich-baghrilirim uninggha telmürüp ketti;
5 I arose up to open to my beloved: my hands dropped with myrrh, and my fingers were full of the choicest myrrh.
Söyümlükümge échishqa qoptum; Qollirimdin murmekki, Barmaqlirimdin suyuq murmekki témidi, Taqaqning tutquchliri üstige témidi;
6 I opened the bolt of my door to my beloved: but he had turned aside, and was gone. My soul melted when he spoke: I sought him, and found him not: I called, and he did not answer me.
Söyümlükümge achtim; Biraq söyümlüküm burulup, kétip qalghanidi. U söz qilghanda rohim chiqip ketkenidi; Uni izdidim, biraq tapalmidim; Uni chaqirdim, biraq u jawab bermidi;
7 The keepers that go about the city found me: they struck me: and wounded me: the keepers of the walls took away my veil from me.
Sheherni aylinidighan jésekchiler méni uchritip méni urdi, méni yarilandurdi; Sépillardiki közetchiler chümperdemni mendin tartiwaldi.
8 I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if you find my beloved, that you tell him that I languish with love.
I Yérusalém qizliri, söyümlükümni tapsanglar, Uninggha néme deysiler? Uninggha, söygining: «Men muhebbettin zeipliship kettim! — dédi, denglar».
9 What manner of one is thy beloved of the beloved, O thou most beautiful among women? what manner of one is thy beloved of the beloved, that thou hast so adjured us?
«Séning söyümlüküngning bashqa bir söyümlüktin qandaq artuq yéri bar, I, ayallar arisidiki eng güzili? Séning söyümlüküngning bashqa bir söyümlüktin qandaq artuq yéri bar? — Sen bizge shundaq tapilighan’ghu?».
10 My beloved is white and ruddy, chosen out of thousands.
«Méning söyümlüküm ap’aq we parqiraq, yüreklik ezimet, On ming arisida tughdek körünerliktur;
11 His head is as the finest gold: his locks as branches of palm trees, black as a raven.
Uning béshi sap altundindur, Budur chachliri atning yaylidek, Tagh qaghisidek qara.
12 His eyes as doves upon brooks of waters, which are washed with milk, and sit beside the plentiful streams.
Uning közliri éqinlar boyidiki paxteklerdek, Süt bilen yuyulghan, Yarishiqida qoyulghan;
13 His cheeks are as beds of aromatical spices set by the perfumers. His lips are as lilies dropping choice myrrh.
Uning mengziliri bir teshtek puraqliq ösümlüktektur; Aynighan yéqimliq güllüktek; Uning lewliri niluper, Ular suyuq murmekkini témitidu;
14 His hands are turned and as of gold, full of hyacinths. His belly as of ivory, set with sapphires.
Uning qolliri altun turubilar, Ichige béril yaqutlar quyulghan. Qorsiqi neqishlik pil chishliridin yasalghan, Kök yaqutlar bilen bézelgen.
15 His legs as pillars of marble, that are set upon bases of gold. His form as of Libanus, excellent as the cedars.
Uning putliri mermer tüwrükler, Altun üstige tiklen’gen. Uning salapiti Liwanningkidek, Kédir derexliridek körkem-heywetliktur.
16 His throat most sweet, and he is all lovely: such is my beloved, and he is my friend, O ye daughters of Jerusalem.
Uning aghzi bekmu shérindur; Berheq, u pütünley güzeldur; Bu méning söyümlüküm, — Berheq, bu méning amriqim, I Yérusalém qizliri!»
