Song of Solomon 5
1 I have come to my garden, my sister-spouse, I have plucked my myrrh with my spice, I have eaten my comb with my honey, I have drunk my wine with my milk. Eat, O friends, drink, Indeed, drink abundantly, O beloved ones!
Wee mwarĩ wa maitũ o wee mũhiki wakwa, nĩndoka mũgũnda-inĩ wakwa; nĩnjookanĩrĩirie manemane makwa na mahuti makwa marĩa mangĩ manungi wega. Nĩndĩĩte magua makwa, o na ũũkĩ wakwa; nĩnyuĩte ndibei yakwa, o na iria rĩakwa. Arata Inyuĩ arata-rĩ, rĩai na mũnyue; inyuĩ mwendaine-rĩ, nyuai nginya mũiganie.
2 I am sleeping, but my heart wakes: The sound of my beloved knocking! “Open to me, my sister, my friend, My dove, my perfect one, For my head is filled [with] dew, My locks [with] drops of the night.”
Ndĩrarĩ toro, no ngoro yakwa nĩĩreiguĩte. Ta thikĩrĩria! Mwendwa wakwa nĩararingaringa mũrango, akiugaga atĩrĩ: “Mwarĩ wa maitũ, wee mwendwa wakwa, wee ndutura yakwa, o wee wakwa ũtarĩ kaũcuuke-rĩ, hingũrĩra. Mũtwe wakwa nĩũihũgĩtio nĩ ime, njuĩrĩ yakwa ĩkaiyũra ireera rĩa ũtukũ.”
3 I have put off my coat, how do I put it on? I have washed my feet, how do I defile them?
Nĩndutĩte nguo yakwa ya igũrũ: no nginya ndĩmĩĩhumbe rĩngĩ? Ningĩ nĩndĩthambĩte magũrũ: no nginya ndĩmekĩre gĩko rĩngĩ?
4 My beloved sent his hand from the network, And my bowels were moved for him.
Mwendwa wakwa araikirie guoko gwake kamwanya-inĩ ka mũrango, nayo ngoro yakwa ĩrambĩrĩria kũmwĩrirĩria.
5 I rose to open to my beloved, And my hands dripped myrrh, Indeed, my fingers were flowing [with] myrrh, On the handles of the lock.
Ndĩrokĩra kũhingũrĩra mwendwa wakwa, moko makwa magĩtaataga manemane, nacio ciara ciakwa ikanyũrũrũkia manemane, nyiitĩro-inĩ ya mũrango.
6 I opened to my beloved, But my beloved withdrew—he passed on, My soul went forth when he spoke, I sought him, and did not find him. I called him, and he did not answer me.
Ndĩrahingũrĩire mwendwa wakwa, no mwendwa wakwa ndararĩ ho, nĩarathiĩte; Nayo ngoro yakwa ĩroorwo nĩ hinya nĩ ũndũ wake gũthiĩ. Ndĩramwethire, no ndinamuona. Ndĩramwĩtire, no ndananjĩtĩka.
7 The watchmen who go around the city, Found me, struck me, wounded me, Keepers of the walls lifted up my veil from off me.
Arangĩri maranyona magĩthiũrũrũka itũũra-inĩ rĩu inene. Nao marahũũrire, marandihangia; marandunya nguo yakwa ya igũrũ, arangĩri acio a thingo!
8 I have adjured you, daughters of Jerusalem, If you find my beloved—What do you tell him? That I [am] sick with love!
Inyuĩ aarĩ aya a Jerusalemu, ndamwĩhĩtithia atĩrĩ: mũngĩona mwendwa wakwa-rĩ, mũkũmwĩra atĩa? Mwĩrei atĩ ndĩ mũcuce nĩ wendo.
9 What [is] your beloved above [any] beloved, O beautiful among women? What [is] your beloved above [any] beloved, That thus you have adjured us?
Wee mũthaka gũkĩra andũ-a-nja arĩa angĩ othe-rĩ, mwendwa waku aagĩrĩte agakĩra endwa arĩa angĩ na kĩ? Mwendwa waku akĩrĩte endwa arĩa angĩ nakĩ, nĩguo ũtwĩhĩtithie ũguo?
10 My beloved [is] clear and ruddy, Conspicuous above a myriad!
Mwendwa wakwa nĩ mũthaka na agatunĩha, nĩekũũranĩte harĩ arũme ngiri ikũmi.
11 His head [is] pure gold—fine gold, His locks flowing, dark as a raven,
Mũtwe wake ũhaana ta thahabu theru mũno; njuĩrĩ yake ĩrĩ na mĩkumba, na ĩkaira ta ihuru.
12 His eyes as doves by streams of water, Washing in milk, sitting in fullness.
Maitho make mahaana ta ma ndutura ciũmbĩte tũrũũĩ-inĩ, mahaana ta mathambĩtio na iria, o ta maigĩtwo wega makaagĩrĩra ta mathaga.
13 His cheeks [are] as a bed of the spice, towers of perfumes, His lips—lilies, dripping [and] flowing [with] myrrh,
Makai make namo mahaana ta tũmĩgũnda tũtumanĩte mahuti manungi wega magĩtararĩka. Mĩromo yake no ta itoka igũita manemane.
14 His hands rings of gold, set with beryl, His heart bright ivory, covered with sapphires,
Moko make mahaana ta thanju cia thahabu, itheecereirwo tũhiga-inĩ tũrĩa twĩtagwo thumarati; mwĩrĩ wake ũhaana ta mũguongo ũrĩa mũnyorokie, ũgemetio na yakuti ĩrĩa theru.
15 His limbs pillars of marble, Founded on sockets of fine gold, His appearance as Lebanon, choice as the cedars.
Magũrũ make matariĩ ta itugĩ cia mahiga ma mũthemba wa marimari, ihaandĩrĩirwo itina-inĩ cia thahabu ĩrĩa therie. Maũthĩ make matariĩ ta Lebanoni, agathakara ta mĩtarakwa yakuo.
16 His mouth is sweetness—and all of him desirable, This [is] my beloved, and this my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem!
Kanua gake akĩaria karĩ mũrĩo mũno; we nĩ wa kwendeka biũ. Atĩrĩrĩ, ũyũ nĩwe mwendwa wakwa, ũyũ nĩwe mũrata wakwa, inyuĩ aarĩ a Jerusalemu.
