Song of Solomon 2
1 I am the rose of Sharon, and the lily of the valleys.
Meyɛ Saron nhwiren ne abon mu sukooko.
2 As the lily among thorns, so is my love among the daughters.
Sɛnea sukooko a ɛwɔ nsɔe mu te no, saa ara na me dɔfo te wɔ mmabaa mu.
3 As the apple tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his shadow with great delight, and his fruit was sweet to my taste.
Sɛnea aprɛ te wɔ kwae mu nnua mu no, saa ara na me dɔfo te wɔ mmerante mu. Sɛ metena ne nwini mu a minya ahomeka na nʼaba nso yɛ mʼanom dɛ.
4 He brought me to the banqueting house, and his banner over me was love.
Ɔde me akɔ aponto ase, na mʼagyiraehyɛde yɛ ɔdɔ.
5 Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples: for I am sick of love.
Momma me bobe aba na minya ahoɔden, momma me aprɛ na ennwudwo me, efisɛ ɔdɔ ama matɔ beraw.
6 His left hand is under my head, and his right hand doth embrace me.
Ne nsa benkum da mʼatiko, na ne nsa nifa aka me afam ne bo.
7 I charge you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, and by the hinds of the field, that ye stir not up, nor awake my love, till he please.
Yerusalem mmabea, mede atwewa ne wuram ɔforote hyɛ mo sɛ: Monnkanyan na munnyan ɔdɔ kosi bere a ɛsɛ mu.
8 The voice of my beloved! behold, he cometh leaping upon the mountains, skipping upon the hills.
Tie! me dɔfo! Hwɛ! ɔno na ɔreba no, ɔrehuruhuruw wɔ mmepɔw no so na ɔbɔ pentenkwa wɔ nkoko no so.
9 My beloved is like a roe or a young hart: behold, he standeth behind our wall, he looketh forth at the windows, shewing himself through the lattice.
Me dɔfo te sɛ ɔtwe anaa ɔforote. Hwɛ! ogyina yɛn fasu akyi, ɔhwɛ mfɛnsere no mu, wagyen nʼani rehwɛ mfɛnsere no mu.
10 My beloved spake, and said unto me, Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.
Me dɔfo kasa kyerɛɛ me se, “Sɔre, me dɔfo ne mʼahoɔfɛ na bra me nkyɛn.
11 For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone;
Hwɛ! awɔwbere atwa mu; na asusow atwa mu kɔ.
12 The flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land;
Nhwiren afifi asase ani: nnwonto bere aso. Wɔte mmorɔnoma su wɔ yɛn asase so.
13 The fig tree putteth forth her green figs, and the vines with the tender grape give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.
Borɔdɔma agu nhwiren; na bobe hua agye baabiara. Sɔre bra, me dɔfo; mʼahoɔfɛ, bra me nkyɛn.”
14 O my dove, that art in the clefts of the rock, in the secret places of the stairs, let me see thy countenance, let me hear thy voice; for sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely.
Mʼaborɔnoma a wohyɛ abotan ntokuru mu, ahintaw wɔ mmepɔw so, ma minhu wʼanim; ma mente wo nne; wo nne yɛ dɛ, na wʼanim yɛ fɛ.
15 Take us the foxes, the little foxes, that spoil the vines: for our vines have tender grapes.
Monkyekyere sakraman no mma yɛn, sakraman nketewa no a wɔsɛe bobe nturo, yɛn bobe nturo a ayɛ frɔmfrɔm no.
16 My beloved is mine, and I am his: he feedeth among the lilies.
Me dɔfo yɛ me dea, na mewɔ no; ɔhwehwɛ sukooko no mu.
17 Until the day break, and the shadows flee away, turn, my beloved, and be thou like a roe or a young hart upon the mountains of Bether.
Enkosi sɛ ade bɛkyɛ na sunsuma bɛsen akɔ no, dan wo ho, me dɔfo, na yɛ sɛ ɔtwewa anaa ɔforote a ɔwɔ nkoko mmonkyi mmonka no so.
