Song of Solomon 5
1 I AM come into my garden, my sister, my spouse: I have gathered my myrrh with my spice; I have eaten my honeycomb with my honey; I have drunk my wine with my milk: eat, O friends; drink, yea, drink abundantly, O beloved.
Nzize mu nnimiro yange mwannyinaze, omugole wange; nkuŋŋaanyiza mooli yange n’eby’akawoowo byange. Ndidde ebisenge byange eby’omubisi gw’enjuki gwange ne nywa n’omubisi gwange, Nywedde wayini wange n’amata gange. Abemikwano Abemikwano mulye munywe, munywere ddala, mmwe abaagalana.
2 I sleep, but my heart waketh: it is the voice of my beloved that knocketh, saying, Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled: for my head is filled with dew, and my locks with the drops of the night.
Nnali ngalamidde, ng’omutima gwange guwulira. Ne mpulira muganzi wange ng’akonkona, n’ayogera nti, “Nziguliraawo mwannyinaze, Owoomukwano, ejjiba lyange, owe wange ataliiko bbala, kubanga omutwe gwange gutobye omusulo, n’enviiri zange zibisiwadde olw’obunnyogovu.”
3 I have put off my coat; how shall I put it on? I have washed my feet; how shall I defile them?
Nziggyeko ekkooti yange, nnaagyambala ntya nate? Nanaabye ebigere, nnaddayo ntya mu ttaka gye binaddugalira?
4 My beloved put in his hand by the hole of the door, and my bowels were moved for him.
Muganzi wange bwe yakwata ku munyolo, omutima gwange ne gubuukabuuka.
5 I rose up to open to my beloved; and my hands dropped with myrrh, and my fingers with sweet smelling myrrh, upon the handles of the lock.
Ne ngolokoka okuggulirawo muganzi wange, emikono gyange nga gitonnya mooli, n’engalo zange nga zikulukuta mooli, ku minyolo gy’ekufulu.
6 I opened to my beloved; but my beloved had withdrawn himself, and was gone: my soul failed when he spake: I sought him, but I could not find him; I called him, but he gave me no answer.
Ne ŋŋenda okuggulirawo muganzi wange, naye muganzi wange ng’avuddewo, yeetambulidde. Omutima gwange gwasanyuka bwe nnawulira eddoboozi lye. Ne munoonya naye n’ambula, ne mukoowoola naye nga taddamu.
7 The watchmen that went about the city found me, they smote me, they wounded me; the keepers of the walls took away my veil from me.
Abakuumi baansanga bwe baali nga balawuna mu kibuga; baankuba, ne bandeetako ebinuubule, ne batwala n’ekyambalo kyange, abasajja abo abakuuma bbugwe.
8 I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if ye find my beloved, that ye tell him, that I am sick of love.
Mmwe abawala ba Yerusaalemi, mbakuutira nti bwe mulaba ku muganzi wange, mumutegeeze ng’okwagala kwange gy’ali bwe kunzita.
9 What is thy beloved more than another beloved, O thou fairest among women? what is thy beloved more than another beloved, that thou dost so charge us?
Owange, kiki muganzi wo ky’alina kyasinza abalungi abalala ggwe omukazi akira abalala obulungi? Kiki muganzi wo kyasinza abalala n’okutukuutira n’otukuutira bw’otyo?
10 My beloved is white and ruddy, the chiefest among ten thousand.
Muganzi wange alabika bulungi nnyo era mumyufu, atabula ne mu bantu omutwalo.
11 His head is as the most fine gold, his locks are bushy, and black as a raven.
Omutwe gwe gwa zaabu ennongoose ennyo; n’enviiri ze zirimu amayengo, era nzirugavu nga nnamuŋŋoona.
12 His eyes are as the eyes of doves by the rivers of waters, washed with milk, and fitly set.
Amaaso ge gali ng’amayiba ku mabbali g’emigga egy’amazzi, agaanaazibwa n’amata, ne gaba ng’amayinja ag’omuwendo omungi.
13 His cheeks are as a bed of spices, as sweet flowers: his lips like lilies, dropping sweet smelling myrrh.
Amatama ge gali ng’emisiri egy’obuwoowo, obuleeta akaloosa akalungi. Emimwa gye giri ng’amalanga agakulukuta mooli.
14 His hands are as gold rings set with the beryl: his belly is as bright ivory overlaid with sapphires.
Emikono gye giri ng’emitayimbwa egya zaabu egiteekebwamu amayinja ag’omuwendo. Omubiri gwe guli ng’amasanga amayooyote agatoneddwa ne safiro.
15 His legs are as pillars of marble, set upon sockets of fine gold: his countenance is as Lebanon, excellent as the cedars.
Amagulu ge gali ng’empagi ez’amayinja aganyirira ezisimbibwa mu zaabu ennungi. Mu ndabika afaanana Lebanooni omulungi ng’emivule gyayo.
16 His mouth is most sweet: yea, he is altogether lovely. This is my beloved, and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem.
Enjogera ye mpomerevu, weewaawo awamu n’ebyo byonna ayagalibwa. Ono ye muganzi wange, ye mukwano gwange; mmwe abawala ba Yerusaalemi.
