Song of Solomon 6
1 To where has your beloved gone, O beautiful among women? To where has your beloved turned, And we seek him with you?
“Kote cheri ou a te ale, o pi bèl pami fanm yo? Kote cheri ou a te vire, pou nou ka chache li ansanm avèk ou?”
2 My beloved went down to his garden, To the beds of the spice, To delight himself in the gardens, and to gather lilies.
Cheri mwen an te desann nan jaden li an, nan kabann ki fèt ak fèy awomatik, pou fè patiraj twoupo li nan jaden yo, pou ranmase flè lis.
3 I [am] my beloved’s, and my beloved [is] mine, Who is delighting himself among the lilies.
Mwen pou cheri mwen an e cheri mwen pou mwen; sila ki fè patiraj twoupo li pami flè lis yo.
4 You [are] beautiful, my friend, as Tirzah, lovely as Jerusalem, Awe-inspiring as bannered hosts.
Ou bèl, cheri mwen an, tankou Thirtsa; bèl tankou Jérusalem, mèvèye tankou yon lame ak drapo yo.
5 Turn around your eyes from before me, Because they have made me proud. Your hair [is] as a row of the goats, That have shone from Gilead,
Vire zye ou! Pa gade m! Paske zye ou fè m egare. Cheve ou tankou yon bann kabrit k ap soti desann Galaad.
6 Your teeth as a row of the lambs, That have come up from the washing, Because all of them are forming twins, And a bereaved one is not among them.
Dan ou tankou yon bann mouton ki fenk monte sot benyen. Yo tout ki pòtre marasa. Nanpwen menm youn nan yo ki pèdi pitit.
7 As the work of the pomegranate [is] your temple behind your veil.
De bò figi ou tankou yon tranch grenad dèyè vwal ou.
8 Sixty are queens, and eighty concubines, And virgins without number.
Genyen swasant rèn ak katre-ven konkibin, e jèn fi menm pa kab konte;
9 One is my dove, my perfect one, She [is] one of her mother, She [is] the choice one of her that bore her, Daughters saw, and pronounce her blessed, Queens and concubines, and they praise her.
Men toutrèl mwen an, parèy san parèy mwen an inik; li se sèl fi a manman li. Fi san tach a sila ki te pote li a. Jenn fi yo te wè l e te rele l beni; ni rèn ni konkibin yo. Yo te louwe l pou di:
10 “Who [is] this that is looking forth as morning, Beautiful as the moon—clear as the sun, Awe-inspiring as bannered hosts?”
Kilès li ye ki grandi kon solèy leve a, bèl tankou plèn lin nan, san tach tankou solèy la, e mèvèye tankou yon lame ak tout drapo li a?
11 To a garden of nuts I went down, To look on the buds of the valley, To see to where the vine had flourished, The pomegranates had blossomed—
Mwen te desann nan chan bwa nwa yo pou wè bwa vèt yo nan vale a; pou wè si chan rezen fin fè boujon, oswa grenad yo te fleri.
12 I did not know my soul, It made me—chariots of my people Nadib.
Avan mwen te menm konnen, dezi m te plase mwen sou cha a pèp nòb mwen an.
13 Return, return, O Shulammith! Return, return, and we look on you. What do you see in Shulammith?
Retounen, retounen, O Silamit lan; retounen, retounen, pou zye nou ka gade ou! Salomon Poukisa ou ta gade Silamit lan tankou se nan dans a de twoup koral?
