Song of Songs 6
1 Whither is your kinsman gone, you beautiful among women? whither has your kinsman turned aside? [tell us], and we will seek him with you.
Nimb’aia i kokoa’oy, ry maintelèn’ampelao? Nitsile mb’aia i kokoa’oy, hindreza’ay fipay?
2 My kinsman is gone down to his garden, to the beds of spice, to feed [his flock] in the gardens, and to gather lilies.
Nizotso mb’an-golobo’e mb’eo i kokoakoy, mb’am-pilafiham-pahafiriañe mb’eo, hiarake an-golobo’e ao, naho hanontoñe o voñem-bindao.
3 I am my kinsman's, and my kinsman is mine, who feeds among the lilies.
A i kokoakoy iraho, vaho ahiko re, ie miarak’ am-baremañitse ao.
4 You are fair, my companion, as Pleasure, beautiful as Jerusalem, terrible as [armies] set in array.
Hamotsontane irehe, kokoako, manahak’ i Tirzà, naho ty hasoa’ Ierosalaime, amam-bolonahetse hoe lahialen-defoñe mañonjom-borovoro.
5 Turn away your eyes from before me, for they have ravished me: your hair is as flocks of goats which have appeared from Galaad.
Atoliho mb’eo hoekeo o maso’oo, fa mampivalitaboak’ ahy; manahake ty lia-rain’ose mikararake mañambane i Gilade mb’eo o volo’oo.
6 Your teeth are as flocks of shorn [sheep], that have gone up from the washing, all of them bearing twins, and there is none barren among them: your lips are as a thread of scarlet, and your speech is comely.
Lia-rain’ añondri-vave mionjoñe boak’ ampanasañe ao o nife’oo, songa reke-pihambañe, ndra raike tsy jeña.
7 Your cheek is like the rind of a pomegranate, [being seen] without your veil.
Hoe vakim-boan-draketamena ty fitendrean’ aoli’o an-kalo’ o marerarera’oo.
8 There are sixty queens, and eighty concubines, and maidens without number.
Mete ho enempolo ty valim-panjaka, naho valompolo o sakeza’eo vaho somondrara tsy fotofoto;
9 My dove, my perfect one is one; she is the [only] one of her mother; she is the choice of her that bore her. The daughters saw her, and the queens will pronounce her blessed, yes, and the concubines, and they will praise her.
fa ihe ry dehoko, ry homozohozo’e, tsy amañ’ohatse, bako tokan-drene’e, mitoratsik’ amy nisamak’ azey. Ie nizoe’ o somondrarao le natao’ iareo soa-tata, nandrenge aze ka o valim-panjakao naho o sakezao.
10 Who is this that looks forth as the morning, fair as the moon, choice as the sun, terrible as [armies] set in array?
Ia o miboake hoe t’ie andro manjirikeo? motsotsore hoe i volan-dorisay, mikotritriake hoe i àndroy, mahalatsa hoe valobohòke mirañoraño an-kobaiñe?
11 I went down to the garden of nuts, to look at the fruits of the valley, to see if the vine flowered, [if] the pomegranates blossomed.
Nizotso mb’añ’ala-vondron-tsakoa mb’eo raho hisary o fitirim-bao am-bavataneo, hañenteako ke mibotiboty o vaheo, he mamòñe o raketao.
12 There I will give you my breasts: my soul knew [it] not: it made me as the chariots of Aminadab.
Niambovo amako te navotra’ ty troko an-tsarete ao, hehe te añ’ilako eo ty roandria.
13 Return, return, O Sunamite; return, return, and we will look at you. What will you see in the Sunamite? She comes as bands of armies.
Mibaliha, mibaliha, ry nte-Solàme; mimpolia, mimpolia, hisamba’ay azo. Inom-bao ty angarefa’ areo i nte-Solamey hoe te itsinjaha’e i Mahanaime?
