Song of Solomon 4
1 Behold, thou art beautiful, my beloved, behold, thou art beautiful: thy dovelike eyes [look forth] from behind thy vail; thy hair is like a flock of goats, that come quietly down from Mount Gil'ad.
Yaa bareedduu ko, ati akkam miidhagda! Dinqii ati akkam bareedda! Iji kee haguuggii kee duubaan gugee fakkaata. Rifeensi mataa keetii akkuma karra reʼootaa kan gaara Giliʼaad irraa gad buʼuu ti.
2 Thy teeth are like a flock of well-selected sheep, which are come up from the washing, all of which bear twins, and there is not one among them that is deprived of her young.
Ilkaan kee akkuma karra hoolotaa kan rifeensi irraa haadamee dhiqamee ol dhufaa jiruu ti. Tokkoon tokkoon isaanii lakkuu qabu; isaan keessa maseenni tokko iyyuu hin jiru.
3 Like a thread of scarlet are thy lips, and thy mouth is comely: like the half of a pomegranate is the upper part of thy cheek behind thy vail.
Hidhiin kee akkuma kirrii bildiimaa ti; haasaan kee namatti tola. Maddiin kee lamaan haguuggii kee keessatti roomaanii tokkicha iddoo lamatti qoodame fakkaata.
4 Thy neck is like the tower of David built on terraces, a thousand shields hang-thereon, all the quivers of the mighty men.
Mormi kee gamoo Daawit kan miʼa lolaa itti kuusuuf ijaarame sana fakkaata; isa irratti gaachana kumatu rarraafama; hundinuu gaachana loltootaa ti.
5 Thy two breasts are like two fawns, the twins of the roe, that feed among the lilies.
Guntunni kee lamaan akkuma ilmoolee kuruphee kanneen lakkuu dhalatanii daraaraa keessa dheedanii ti.
6 Until the day became cool, and the shadows flee away, will I get me to the mountain of myrrh, and to the hill of frankincense.
Hamma bariʼee gaaddisni baduutti, ani gara tulluu qumbiitii fi gara gaara ixaanaa nan dhaqa.
7 Thou art altogether beautiful, my beloved, and there is no blemish on thee.—
Yaa jaalallee ko, ati guutumaan guutuutti bareedduu dha; ati mudaa tokko illee hin qabdu.
8 Come with me from Lebanon, O bride, with me from Lebanon: look about from the top of Amanah, from the top of Senir and Chermon, from the lions' dens, from the leopards' mountains.
Yaa misirrittii ko, Libaanoonii na wajjin kottu; Libaanoonii na wajjin kottu. Fiixee Amaanaa irraa, fiixee Seniir, fiixee Hermoon irraa gad buʼi; holqa leencaa keessaa, tulluu oolmaa qeerransaa irraas gad buʼi.
9 Thou hast ravished my heart, O my sister, [my] bride; thou hast ravished my heart with one of thy eyes, with one chain of thy neck.
Yaa obboleettii ko, yaa misirrittii ko, ati qalbii koo hatteerta; ati milʼuu ija keetii tokkoon, faaya morma keetii tokkoon qalbii koo hatteerta.
10 How beautiful are thy caresses, O my sister, [my] bride! how much more pleasant are thy caresses than wine! and the smell of thy fragrant oils more than all spices.
Yaa obboleettii ko, yaa misirrittii ko, jaalalli kee akkam nama gammachiisa! Jaalalli kee daadhii wayinii caalaa, urgaan shittoo keetiis urgooftuu kam iyyuu caalaa akkam namatti tola!
11 Of sweet honey drop thy lips, O bride: honey and milk are under thy tongue; and the scent of thy garments is like the scent of Lebanon.
Yaa misirrittii ko, hidhiin kee akkuma dhaaba dammaa nadhii coccobsa; aannanii fi dammi arraba kee jala jira. Urgaan uffata keetii akkuma urgaa Libaanoon.
12 A locked-up garden is my sister, [my] bride; a locked-up spring, a sealed fountain.
Yaa obboleettii ko, yaa misirrittii ko, ati akkuma iddoo biqiltuu cufamee ti; ati burqaa dallaan itti ijaaramee fi madda chaappaan cufamee dha.
13 Thy sprouts are an orchard of pomegranates, with precious fruits, copher and spikenard;
Biqiltuun kee iddoo roomaanii kan ija filatamaa heennaa fi naardoos qabuu dha;
14 Spikenard and saffron; calamus and cinnamon, with all the trees of frankincense; myrrh and aloes, with all the chief of spices;
akkasumas naardoosii fi marga urgaaʼu, qundhii fi qarafaa, muka ixaanaa gosa garaa garaa, qumbii, argeessaa fi urgooftuu akka malee gaarii hunda qaba.
15 A garden-spring, a well of living waters, and flowing down from Lebanon.—
Ati burqaa biqiltuu keessaa ti; bishaan boollaa yaaʼu kan Libaanoon irraa gad dhangalaʼuu dha.
16 Awake, O north wind; and come thou, O south; blow over my garden, that its spices may flow out. Let my friend come into his garden, and eat its precious fruits.—
Yaa bubbee kaabaa dammaqi; bubbeen kibbaas kottu! Akka urgaan isaa naannoo hunda waliin gaʼuuf biqiltuu koo irratti bubbisi. Michuun koo dhufee, biqiltuu seenee ija filatamaa haa nyaatu.
