Song of Solomon 6
1 Whither is thy friend gone, O fairest of women? whither hath thy friend turned himself? that we may seek him with thee?—
Níbo ni olùfẹ́ rẹ lọ, ìwọ arẹwà jùlọ láàrín àwọn obìnrin? Níbo ni olùfẹ́ rẹ yà sí, kí a lè bá ọ wá a?
2 My beloved is gone down to his garden, to the beds of spices, to feed in the gardens, and to gather lilies.
Olùfẹ́ mi ti sọ̀kalẹ̀ lọ sínú ọgbà rẹ̀, sí ibi ibùsùn tùràrí, láti máa jẹ nínú ọgbà láti kó ìtànná lílì jọ.
3 I am my friend's, and my friend is mine: he that feedeth among the lilies.—
Èmi ni ti olùfẹ́ mi, olùfẹ́ mi sì ni tèmi, Ó ń jẹ láàrín ìtànná lílì.
4 Thou art beautiful, O my beloved, like Thirzah, comely like Jerusalem, terrible as armies encamped round their banners.
Ìwọ lẹ́wà olùfẹ́ mi, bí i Tirsa, ìwọ lẹ́wà bí i Jerusalẹmu, ìwọ ògo bí ogun pẹ̀lú ọ̀págun.
5 Turn away thy eyes from me, for they have excited me: thy hair is like a flock of goats that come quietly down from mount Gil'ad.
Yí ojú rẹ kúrò lára mi; nítorí ojú rẹ borí mi. Irun rẹ rí bí i ọ̀wọ́ ewúrẹ́ tí ó sọ̀kalẹ̀ wá láti Gileadi.
6 Thy teeth are like a flock of ewes 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.
Eyín rẹ rí bí ọ̀wọ́ àgùntàn, tí ó gòkè láti ibi ìwẹ̀ rẹ̀ wá, gbogbo wọn bí ìbejì, kò sì ṣí ọ̀kankan tí ó yàgàn nínú wọn.
7 Like the half of the pomegranate is the upper part of thy cheek behind thy vail.
Ẹ̀rẹ̀kẹ́ rẹ lẹ́bàá ìbòjú rẹ, rí bí ẹ̀là èso pomegiranate.
8 Sixty are the queens, and eighty the concubines, and the young women without number;
Ọgọ́ta ayaba ní ń bẹ níbẹ̀, àti ọgọ́rin àlè, àti àwọn wúńdíá láìníye.
9 But one alone is my dove, my guiltless one; she is the only one of her mother, she is the chosen of her that bore her: maidens see her, and call her happy; yea, queens and concubines, and praise her.
Àdàbà mi, aláìlábàwọ́n mi, ọ̀kan ni, ọ̀kan ṣoṣo ọmọbìnrin ìyá rẹ̀, ààyò ẹyọ kan ṣoṣo ẹni tí ó bí i. Àwọn obìnrin rí i wọ́n pè é ní alábùkún fún àwọn ayaba àti àwọn àlè gbé oríyìn fún un.
10 Who is this that shineth forth like the morning-dawn, beautiful as the moon, bright as the sun, terrible as armies encamped round their banners?
Ta ni èyí tí ó tàn jáde bí i ìràwọ̀ òwúrọ̀, tí ó dára bí òṣùpá, tí ó mọ́lẹ̀ bí oòrùn, tí ó ní ẹ̀rù bí i jagunjagun pẹ̀lú ọ̀págun?
11 Into the nut-garden was I gone down, to look about among the plants of the valley, to see whether the vine had blossomed, whether the pomegranates had budded.
Èmi sọ̀kalẹ̀ lọ sí ibi ọgbà èso igi láti wo àwọn ẹ̀ka igi tuntun ní àfonífojì, láti rí i bí àjàrà rúwé, tàbí bí pomegiranate ti rudi.
12 I knew not [how it was], my soul made me [like] the chariots of my noble people.
Kí èmi tó mọ̀, àárẹ̀ ọkàn mú mi, mo sì fẹ́ kí ń wà láàrín àwọn ènìyàn mi.
13 Return, return, O Shulammith; return, return, that we may look upon thee. “What will ye see in the Shulammith?” As though it were the dance of a double company.
Padà wá, padà wá, ìwọ ọmọ Ṣulamati; padà wá, padà wá, kí àwa kí ó lè yọ́ ọ wò. Olùfẹ́ Èéṣe tí ẹ̀yin fẹ́ yọ́ Ṣulamati wò, bí ẹni pé orin ijó Mahanaimu?
