< Song of Solomon 7 >

1 HOW beautiful are thy feet with shoes, O prince’s daughter! the joints of thy thighs are like jewels, the work of the hands of a cunning workman.
We mwarĩ ũyũ wa mũnene, ĩ magũrũ maku mekĩrĩtwo iraatũ ti mathaka! Magũrũ maku mathakarĩte makahaana ta mathaga, marĩa mathondeketwo nĩ moko ma mũbundi mũũgĩ.
2 Thy navel is like a round goblet, which wanteth not liquor: thy belly is like an heap of wheat set about with lilies.
Mũkonyo waku nĩ ta kaihũri ga gĩthiũrũrĩ karĩa gataagaga ndibei ningie. Njohero yaku ĩhaana ta kĩhumbu kĩa ngano ngonyore, gĩthiũrũrũkĩirio nĩ itoka.
3 Thy two breasts are like two young roes that are twins.
Nyondo ciaku ihaana ciana igĩrĩ cia thiiya, ikahaana mahatha ma thiiya.
4 Thy neck is as a tower of ivory; thine eyes like the fishpools in Heshbon, by the gate of Bath-rabbim: thy nose is as the tower of Lebanon which looketh toward Damascus.
Ngingo yaku ĩhaana ta mũthiringo mũraihu wakĩtwo na mĩguongo. Maitho maku nĩ ta tũria twa Heshiboni, hakuhĩ na kĩhingo kĩa Bathi-Rabimu. Iniũrũ rĩaku rĩhaana ta mũthiringo mũraihu wa Lebanoni ũrĩa ũrorete na mwena wa Dameski.
5 Thine head upon thee is like Carmel, and the hair of thine head like purple; the king is held in the galleries.
Mũtwe waku ũkũhumbaga tanji ta Kĩrĩma gĩa Karimeli. Nacio njuĩrĩ ciaku ciirĩte ikahaana ta rangi wa ndathi; mũthamaki aikaraga ta oohereirwo tũmĩcuha-inĩ twacio.
6 How fair and how pleasant art thou, O love, for delights!
Wee wendo, kaĩ wee ũrĩ mũthaka na wa gũkenania-ĩ! Maũndũ maku nĩmagũkenania!
7 This thy stature is like to a palm tree, and thy breasts to clusters of grapes.
Kĩrũgamo gĩaku kĩrũngarĩte ta mũtĩ wa mũkĩndũ, nacio nyondo ciaku ihaana ta imanjĩka cia matunda.
8 I said, I will go up to the palm tree, I will take hold of the boughs thereof: now also thy breasts shall be as clusters of the vine, and the smell of thy nose like apples;
Ndoigire atĩrĩ, “Nĩngũhaica mũtĩ ũyũ wa mũkĩndũ; nĩngũtua matunda maguo.” Nyondo ciaku irotuĩka ta imanjĩka cia thabibũ, nayo mĩhũmũ yaku ĩtararĩke wega ta matunda,
9 And the roof of thy mouth like the best wine for my beloved, that goeth down sweetly, causing the lips of those that are asleep to speak.
nako kanua gaku gatuĩke ta ndibei ĩrĩa njega mũno. Mwendwa Ndibei ĩyo ĩrokinyĩra mwendwa wakwa, na ĩmerũke wega ĩrĩ gatagatĩ ka mĩromo na magego.
10 I am my beloved’s, and his desire is toward me.
Niĩ ndĩ wa mwendwa wakwa, nake nĩ niĩ eriragĩria.
11 Come, my beloved, let us go forth into the field; let us lodge in the villages.
Mwendwa wakwa, ũka, nĩtũthiĩ mĩgũnda-inĩ, nĩtũthiĩ tũkaraarĩrĩre tũtũũra-inĩ.
12 Let us get up early to the vineyards; let us see if the vine flourish, whether the tender grape appear, and the pomegranates bud forth: there will I give thee my loves.
Nĩtũrooke gũthiĩ tene mĩgũnda-inĩ ya mĩthabibũ tũkarore kana mĩthabibũ nĩmĩthundũku, na kana nĩĩcanũrĩte kĩro kĩayo, o na kana mĩkomamanga nĩĩrutĩte kĩro: kũu nĩkuo ngaakũheera wendo wakwa.
13 The mandrakes give a smell, and at our gates are all manner of pleasant fruits, new and old, which I have laid up for thee, O my beloved.
Matunda ma mandarĩki nĩmaratararĩka, na mũrango-inĩ gwitũ kũrĩ na matunda ma mĩthemba yothe marĩa mega mũno, ma mũgethano o na mangĩ maikaru, marĩa ngũigĩire, wee mwendwa wakwa.

< Song of Solomon 7 >