Song of Solomon 4
1 Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair; thine eyes are as doves behind thy veil; thy hair is as a flock of goats, that trail down from mount Gilead.
A la ou bèl, cheri mwen an, a la ou bèl! Zye ou tankou toutrèl dèyè vwal ou; cheve ou tankou yon bann kabrit ki fin desann sòti Mòn Galaad.
2 Thy teeth are like a flock of ewes all shaped alike, which are come up from the washing; whereof all are paired, and none faileth among them.
Dan ou tankou yon bann mouton ak lenn fenk taye ki sot benyen. Yo tout fè pòtre jimo yo, ni youn nan yo pa pèdi pitit li.
3 Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet, and thy mouth is comely; thy temples are like a pomegranate split open behind thy veil.
Lèv ou tankou fisèl wouj e bouch ou tèlman bèl. De bò figi ou tankou yon tranch grenad dèyè vwal ou.
4 Thy neck is like the tower of David builded with turrets, whereon there hang a thousand shields, all the armour of the mighty men.
Kou ou tankou fò David la, bati ak wòch byen ranje sou sila yo mete mil boukliye yo, tout boukliye won a mesye pwisan yo.
5 Thy two breasts are like two fawns that are twins of a gazelle, which feed among the lilies.
De tete ou tankou de jèn ti antilòp; jimo manman k ap chache manje pami flè lis yo.
6 Until the day breathe, and the shadows flee away, I will get me to the mountain of myrrh, and to the hill of frankincense.
Jiskaske jou a bese pou l vin fre e lonbraj yo vin disparèt, mwen va trase chemen mwen rive nan mòn fèy bazilik la, ak nan kolin lansan an.
7 Thou art all fair, my love; and there is no spot in thee.
Ou fin bèl nèt, cheri mwen an, e nanpwen defo nan ou.
8 Come with me from Lebanon, my bride, with me from Lebanon; look from the top of Amana, from the top of Senir and Hermon, from the lions' dens, from the mountains of the leopards.
Vin avè m soti Liban, fi maryaj mwen an; m bezwen ou vini avè m sòti Liban. Vwayaje desann soti nan wo pwent Amana, soti nan wo pwent Mòn Senir ak Hermon; soti nan kav lyon yo, nan mòn a leyopa yo.
9 Thou hast ravished my heart, my sister, my bride; thou hast ravished my heart with one of thine eyes, with one bead of thy necklace.
Ou fè kè m bat pi vit sè mwen, fi maryaj mwen an; ou te fè kè m bat pi vit ak yon sèl ti kout zye tou kout, ak yon sèl bout fisèl nan kolye ou.
10 How fair is thy love, my sister, my bride! how much better is thy love than wine! and the smell of thine ointments than all manner of spices!
A la bèl lanmou ou bèl, sè mwen an, fi a maryaj mwen an! A la pi bon lanmou ou pi bon pase diven e bon odè a lwil ou depase tout kalite epis!
11 Thy lips, O my bride, drop honey — honey and milk are under thy tongue; and the smell of thy garments is like the smell of Lebanon.
Lèv ou, fi a maryaj mwen an, gen gou siwo myèl; siwo myèl ak lèt anba lang ou. Bon odè vètman ou tankou bon odè Liban an.
12 A garden shut up is my sister, my bride; a spring shut up, a fountain sealed.
Yon jaden fèmen ak kle se sè mwen, fi a maryaj mwen; yon jaden wòch ki fèmen, yon fontèn dlo ki ansèkle.
13 Thy shoots are a park of pomegranates, with precious fruits; henna with spikenard plants,
Boujon ou se yon chan kiltive ak pye grenad, ak fwi chwazi, pye jasmen ak ti bonm;
14 Spikenard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon, with all trees of frankincense; myrrh and aloes, with all the chief spices.
ti bonm ak safran, sitwonèl ak kannèl, ak tout bwa lansan yo, lami ak lalwa, ansanm ak tout meyè kalite epis yo.
15 Thou art a fountain of gardens, a well of living waters, and flowing streams from Lebanon.
Ou menm se yon sous jaden, yon pwi dlo fre ak ti ravin dlo k ap kouri soti Liban.
16 Awake, O north wind; and come, thou south; blow upon my garden, that the spices thereof may flow out. Let my beloved come into his garden, and eat his precious fruits.
Leve, o van nan nò a, e vini van nan sid! Fè jaden mwen respire ak souf bon odè; kite epis li yo vante gaye toupatou. Ke cheri mwen an vin nan jaden li an pou manje tout fwi chwa li yo.
