Song of Solomon 7
1 As the chorus of “Mahanaim.” How beautiful were your feet with sandals, O daughter of Nadib. The turnings of your sides [are] as ornaments, Work of the hands of a craftsman.
Mano kaka tiendeni beyo kirwako pat pat, yaye nyar joka ruoth! Tiendeni pichni ka kite ma nengogi tek, ka gima jopecho molony ema opayo.
2 Your waist [is] a basin of roundness, It does not lack the mixture, Your body a heap of wheat, fenced with lilies,
Pendi ogomo ka wend agwata, ma divai moru maber ok rumie. Nungoni chalo pidh ngano mochok kaachiel, ma ondanyo olworo koni gi koni.
3 Your two breasts as two young ones, twins of a roe,
Thundeni chalo gi nyithind mwanda ariyo, gichalo gi nyithind mwanda ma rude.
4 Your neck as a tower of the ivory, Your eyes pools in Heshbon, near the Gate of Bath-Rabbim, Your face as a tower of Lebanon looking to Damascus,
Ngʼuti chalo gi kar ngʼicho motingʼore gi malo molos gi lak liech. Wengeni nyawni ka pi Yawo mar Heshbon but rangach mar Bath Rabim. Umi chalo gi kar ngʼicho motingʼore gi malo mar Lebanon momanyore gi Damaski.
5 Your head on you as Carmel, And the locks of your head as purple, The king is bound with the flowings!
Wiyi miyi duongʼ mana ka Got Karmel, yie wiyi to ochanore ka orengo mar ruoth, kendo omako pach ruoth.
6 How beautiful and how pleasant you have been, O love, in delights.
Mano kaka ijaber kendo imiya mor, mano kaka imora, yaye jaherana!
7 This your stature has been like to a palm, And your breasts to clusters.
Dendi odongo mana ka othith, to thundi to chalo mana ka olemo, mogudore kanyachiel.
8 I said, “Let me go up on the palm, Let me lay hold on its boughs,” Indeed, let your breasts now be as clusters of the vine, And the fragrance of your face as citrons,
Ne awacho niya, “Abiro lwenyo yiend othith; nyaka amak olembe gi lweta.” Mad thundeni chal gi olemb, mzabibu mochokore kanyachiel, to tik mar muchi chal gi olemo mayom,
9 And your palate as the good wine—Flowing to my beloved in uprightness, Strengthening the lips of the aged!
kendo dhogi chal mana gi divai mamit. Nyako Mad divai lor mos e dwond jaherana, kamol mos e kind lewe kod lekene komadhe.
10 I [am] my beloved’s, and on me [is] his desire.
An mar jaherana, kendo gombone ni kuoma.
11 Come, my beloved, we go forth to the field,
Bi, jaherana, bi wadhi waba ei gwengʼ, kendo wanind oko e bunge.
12 We lodge in the villages, we go early to the vineyards, We see if the vine has flourished, The sweet smelling-flower has opened. The pomegranates have blossomed, There I give to you my loves;
Bi wamondi gokinyi wadhi, e puothe mzabibu mondo wangʼiane, ka mzabibu oseolo, bende wangʼiane ka gisechako thiewo, kendo ka olembe mongʼinore oselokore makwar; kuno, ema abiro miyie herana.
13 The mandrakes have given fragrance, And at our openings all pleasant things, New, indeed, old, my beloved, I laid up for you!
Kuno ema inyalo winjoe tik mar mandrake, kendo e odwa kanyo okanni gik mamit, motingʼo gik machon gi manyien, ma asebedo ka akanoni, yaye jaherana.
