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?
Nimb’aia i kokoa’oy, ry maintelèn’ampelao? Nitsile mb’aia i kokoa’oy, hindreza’ay fipay?
2 My beloved went down to his garden, To the beds of the spice, To delight himself 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 beloved’s, and my beloved [is] mine, Who is delighting himself among the lilies.
A i kokoakoy iraho, vaho ahiko re, ie miarak’ am-baremañitse ao.
4 You [are] beautiful, my friend, as Tirzah, lovely as Jerusalem, Awe-inspiring as bannered hosts.
Hamotsontane irehe, kokoako, manahak’ i Tirzà, naho ty hasoa’ Ierosalaime, amam-bolonahetse hoe lahialen-defoñe mañonjom-borovoro.
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,
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 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.
Lia-rain’ añondri-vave mionjoñe boak’ ampanasañe ao o nife’oo, songa reke-pihambañe, ndra raike tsy jeña.
7 As the work of the pomegranate [is] your temple behind your veil.
Hoe vakim-boan-draketamena ty fitendrean’ aoli’o an-kalo’ o marerarera’oo.
8 Sixty are queens, and eighty concubines, And virgins without number.
Mete ho enempolo ty valim-panjaka, naho valompolo o sakeza’eo vaho somondrara tsy fotofoto;
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.
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 is looking forth as morning, Beautiful as the moon—clear as the sun, Awe-inspiring as bannered hosts?”
Ia o miboake hoe t’ie andro manjirikeo? motsotsore hoe i volan-dorisay, mikotritriake hoe i àndroy, mahalatsa hoe valobohòke mirañoraño an-kobaiñe?
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—
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 I did not know my soul, It made me—chariots of my people Nadib.
Niambovo amako te navotra’ ty troko an-tsarete ao, hehe te añ’ilako eo ty roandria.
13 Return, return, O Shulammith! Return, return, and we look on you. What do you see in Shulammith?
Mibaliha, mibaliha, ry nte-Solàme; mimpolia, mimpolia, hisamba’ay azo. Inom-bao ty angarefa’ areo i nte-Solamey hoe te itsinjaha’e i Mahanaime?
