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.
Fanjaka o fandia’o mihànao, ry anak’ ampelan-droandria! hoe hange nitoloñem-pitàm-pitsene mahimbañe ty hahomozohozom-pe’o.
2 Your waist [is] a basin of roundness, It does not lack the mixture, Your body a heap of wheat, fenced with lilies,
Fitovy bontoly ty foe’o, ie le lia’e tsy po-divay milaro; fitoboron’ ampemba iarikatoham-binda o araña’oo.
3 Your two breasts as two young ones, twins of a roe,
Fanaloke tora’e o fatroa’oo, ana-kambam-panalon-drene’e.
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,
Hoe fitilik’abo aman-tsifan-drimo ty fititia’o. O antara’ i Kesbone marine’ i lalam-bei’ i Bate-Rabimeio o fihaino’oo. I fitilik’abo’ i Libanoney mitolike mbe Damesèke ty fiantsona’o.
5 Your head on you as Carmel, And the locks of your head as purple, The king is bound with the flowings!
Misabaka azo manahake i vohi-Karmeley ty añambone’o, le mahasinda i mpanjakay o firandra’eo.
6 How beautiful and how pleasant you have been, O love, in delights.
Akore ty hatsomerentsere’o naho ty hatrenotreno’o ry kokoako, toe mahafale!
7 This your stature has been like to a palm, And your breasts to clusters.
Mitroatse hoe voanio ty sandri’o, le mitoboro hoe o voa’eo o fatroa’oo.
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,
Aa hoe iraho: Hanganiheko i voanioy, naho ho rambeseko o voa’eo; fa hanahake ty voam-bahe o fatroa’oo, naho minday ty harifondrifom-boasare ty sehaseha’o,
9 And your palate as the good wine—Flowing to my beloved in uprightness, Strengthening the lips of the aged!
Hoe divay fanjaka ty lañilañi’o; malama ty fisorogoda’e ho a i kokoakoy, hoe mitsiritsioke mora am-pivimbim-pirotse.
10 I [am] my beloved’s, and on me [is] his desire.
A i kokoakoy raho naho amako ty fañiria’e.
11 Come, my beloved, we go forth to the field,
Antao, kokoako, homb’ an-kaloke mb’eo, hialeñe amo kialoo.
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;
Antao hañaleñaleñe mb’an-tanem-bahe mb’eo handrèndreke ty fibotibotia’ o vaheo, ke te miborake o voñe’eo, hera mamolera o raketao; ao ty hanjotsoako ama’o ty hateako, ry kokoako.
13 The mandrakes have given fragrance, And at our openings all pleasant things, New, indeed, old, my beloved, I laid up for you!
Mañakatse ty hañi’e o vahenamaloo, hene raha mafiry ty an-tsariran-tikañe eo, ty vao naho ty haehae, songa nahajako ho azo, ry kokoako.
