Song of Solomon 6
1 O the fairest among women, whither is thy welbeloued gone? whither is thy welbeloued turned aside, that we may seeke him with thee?
Ɛhe na wo dɔfoɔ no korɔ mmaa ahoɔfɛfoɔ mu ahoɔfɛ? Ɛhe na wo dɔfoɔ dane faeɛ, na yɛne wo nkɔhwehwɛ no?
2 My welbeloued is gone downe into his garden to the beds of spices, to feede in the gardens, and to gather lilies.
Me dɔfoɔ kɔ ne turo mu, faako a pɛperɛ nkofie wɔ hɔ, ɔkɔkyinkyini turo no mu akɔboaboa sukooko ano.
3 I am my welbeloueds, and my welbeloued is mine, who feedeth among the lilies.
Me dɔfoɔ yɛ me dea, na me nso me wɔ no; ɔkyinkyin sukooko no mu.
4 Thou art beautifull, my loue, as Tirzah, comely as Ierusale, terrible as an army with baners.
Me dɔfoɔ, wo ho yɛ fɛ te sɛ Tirsa, wʼahoɔfɛ te sɛ Yerusalem, wosi pi te sɛ asraafoɔ a wɔretu frankaa.
5 Turne away thine eyes from me: for they ouercome mee: thine heare is like a flocke of goates, which looke downe from Gilead.
Ɛnhwɛ me saa; wo ma me yɛ basaa. Wo tirinwi te sɛ mpapokuo a wɔresiane firi Gilead.
6 Thy teeth are like a flocke of sheepe, which goe vp from the washing, which euery one bring out twinnes, and none is barren among them.
Wo se te sɛ nnwankuo a wɔatwitwa wɔn ho nwi foforɔ, a wɔfiri adwareɛ. Wɔnam mmienu mmienu na wɔn mu biara nyɛ ankonam.
7 Thy temples are within thy lockes as a piece of a pomegranate.
Wʼasontorɔ mu a ɛhyɛ wo nkatanimu mu te sɛ ateaa aduaba fa.
8 There are threescore Queenes and fourescore concubines and of the damsels without nober.
Ebia na ɔyerenom yɛ aduosia, mpenafoɔ bɛyɛ aduɔwɔtwe, ne mmabaawa dodoɔ a wɔntumi nkan wɔn;
9 But my doue is alone, and my vndefiled, she is the onely daughter of her mother, and shee is deare to her that bare her: the daughters haue seene her and counted her blessed: euen the Queenes and the concubines, and they haue praised her.
nanso mʼaborɔnoma a ne ho nni asɛm da mu fua; ɔno nko ara ne ne maame babaa, ɔno na deɛ ɔwoo no no pɛ nʼasɛm. Mmabaawa hunu no no, wɔfrɛɛ no nhyira; ahemaa ne mpenafoɔ kamfoo no.
10 Who is shee that looketh foorth as the morning, fayre as the moone, pure as the sunne, terrible as an armie with banners!
Hwan na wapue sɛ ahemadakye yi, ɔyɛ frɔmm sɛ ɔsrane, na ɔhyerɛn sɛ owia, nʼanimuonyam te sɛ nsoromma a wɔsa so.
11 I went downe to the garden of nuttes, to see the fruites of the valley, to see if the vine budded, and if the pomegranates flourished.
Mesiane kɔɔ nnuaba pɔ mu hɔ sɛ merekɔhwehwɛ afifideɛ foforɔ a ɛwɔ bɔnhwa no mu, sɛ bobe no agu nhyerɛnne anaasɛ ateaa no ayɛ frɔmm.
12 I knewe nothing, my soule set me as the charets of my noble people.
Mʼani baa me ho so no na mʼadwene de me abɛsi me nkurɔfoɔ adehyeɛ nteaseɛnam so.
13 Returne, returne, O Shulamite, returne: returne that we may behold thee. What shall you see in the Shulamite, but as the company of an armie?
Sane wʼakyi, sane wʼakyi, Ao, Sulamit abaayewa; Sane bra, sane bra ma yɛn nhwɛ wo! Aberanteɛ: Adɛn enti na ɛsɛ sɛ mohwɛ Sulamit abaayewa sɛdeɛ mohwɛ Mahanaim asa?
