Song of Solomon 2
1 I am a crocus of Sharon, a lily of the valleys.
Meyɛ Saron nhwiren ne bɔnhwa mu sukooko.
2 As a lily among thorns, so is my love among the daughters.
Sɛdeɛ sukooko a ɛwɔ nkasɛɛ mu teɛ no saa ara na me dɔfoɔ te wɔ mmabaawa mu.
3 As the apple tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his shadow with great delight, his fruit was sweet to my taste.
Sɛdeɛ aprɛ teɛ wɔ kwaeɛ mu nnua mu no saa ara na me dɔfoɔ teɛ wɔ mmaranteɛ mu. Sɛ metena ne nwunu mu a, menya ahomeka na nʼaba nso yɛ mʼanom dɛ.
4 He brought me to the banquet hall, and his banner over me was love.
Ɔde me akɔ apontoɔ ase, na mʼahyɛnsodeɛ yɛ ɔdɔ.
5 Strengthen me with raisins, refresh me with apples; For I am faint with love.
Momma me bobe aba na menya ahoɔden, momma me aprɛ na ɛnnwodwo me, ɛfiri sɛ ɔdɔ ama matɔ baha.
6 His left hand is under my head. His right hand embraces me.
Ne nsa benkum da mʼatikɔ, na ne nsa nifa aka me afam ne bo.
7 I adjure you, daughters of Jerusalem, by the gazelles, or by the does of the field, that you not stir up, nor awaken love, until it so desires.
Yerusalem mmammaa, mehyɛ mo sɛ, Momfa wiram atwewa ne ɔforoteɛ nka ntam sɛ morennyane, na morenhwanyane ɔdɔ mu kɔsi ɛberɛ a ɛsɛ mu.
8 The voice of my beloved. Look, he comes, leaping on the mountains, skipping on the hills.
Tie! Me dɔfoɔ! Hwɛ! Ɔno na ɔreba no, ɔrehurihuri wɔ mmepɔ no so na ɔbɔ pentenkwa wɔ nkokoɔ no so.
9 My beloved is like a gazelle or a young deer. Look, he stands behind our wall. He looks in at the windows. He glances through the lattice.
Me dɔfoɔ te sɛ ɔtwe anaa ɔforoteɛ. Hwɛ! Ɔgyina yɛn ɔfasuo akyi, ɔhwɛ mpomma no mu, wagyene nʼani hwɛ ntokua no mu.
10 My beloved spoke, and said to me, "Rise up, my love, my beautiful one, and come away.
Me dɔfoɔ kasa kyerɛɛ me sɛ, “Sɔre, me dɔfoɔ ne mʼahoɔfɛ na bra me nkyɛn.
11 For, look, the winter is past. The rain is over and gone.
Hwɛ! Awɔberɛ atwam; na osutɔ atwam kɔ.
12 The flowers appear on the earth. The time of the singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land.
Nhwiren afifiri asase ani: nnwontoɔ berɛ aso. Wɔte mmorɔnoma su wɔ yɛn asase so.
13 The fig tree ripens her green figs. The vines are in blossom. They give forth their fragrance. Arise, my love, my beautiful one, and come away."
Borɔdɔma agu nhyerɛnne; na bobe hwa agye baabiara. Sɔre bra, me dɔfoɔ; mʼahoɔfɛ bra me nkyɛn.”
14 My dove in the clefts of the rock, In the hiding places of the mountainside, Let me see your face. Let me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet, and your face is lovely.
Mʼaborɔnoma a wohyɛ abotan ntokuro mu ahinta wɔ mmepɔ so, ma me nhunu wʼanim; ma mente wo nne; wo nne yɛ dɛ, na wʼanim yɛ fɛ.
15 Catch for us the foxes, the little foxes that spoil the vineyards; for our vineyards are in blossom.
Monkyekyere sakraman no mma yɛn, sakraman nketewa no a wɔsɛe bobe nturo, yɛn bobe nturo a ayɛ frɔmm no.
16 My beloved is mine, and I am his. He browses among the lilies.
Me dɔfoɔ yɛ me dea, na mewɔ no; ɔhwehwɛ sukooko no mu.
17 Until the day is cool, and the shadows flee away, turn, my beloved, and be like a gazelle or a young stag on the mountains of Bether.
Ɛnkɔsi sɛ adeɛ bɛkye na sunsumma bɛsene akɔ no, dane wo ho me dɔfoɔ, na yɛ sɛ ɔtwewa anaa ɔforoteɛ a ɔwɔ nkokoɔ mmɔnkyi mmɔnka no so.
