Song of Solomon 5
1 I have come into my garden, my sister, my bride. I have gathered my myrrh with my spice; I have eaten my honeycomb with my honey; I have drunk my wine with my milk. Eat, friends. Drink, yes, drink abundantly, beloved.
Fa nimoak’ amy golobokoy iraho, ry zaiko, enga-vaoko; fa natontoko ty rameko naho o mañi-dèkoo; fa nihaneko ty papi-tanteleko naho ty tanteleko; fa ninomeko ty divaiko naho ty rononoko. Mikamà, ry rañetseo, naho minoma; minoma am-pidadañe, ry mpikokoo.
2 I was asleep, but my heart was awake. It is the voice of my beloved who knocks: "Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled; for my head is filled with dew, and my hair with the dampness of the night."
Niroro iraho fe nañente ty troko. Inay! Mañonkòñe i kokoakoy: Sokafo iraho ry zaiko, mami’ty fiaiko, ty dehoko, ginoke tsy aman-kila. Kotsa’ ty zono ty lohako, ty voloko ami’ty hamandoa’ i haleñey.
3 I have taken off my robe. Indeed, must I put it on? I have washed my feet. Indeed, must I soil them?
Fa nafahako ty saroko— mbe haombeko hao? Fa sinasako o tombokoo— mbe ho lotoeko hao?
4 My beloved thrust his hand in through the latch opening. My heart pounded for him.
Nazili’ i kokoakoy ami’ty hiri’ i sikadañey ty fità’e; vaho nampiponaponake o añ’ovako ao.
5 I rose up to open for my beloved. My hands dripped with myrrh, my fingers with liquid myrrh, on the handles of the lock.
Niongake iraho hanokàfako i kokoakoy, nitsopatsopake rame o tañakoo, rame mitsiritsioke o rambo-tañakoo, amo fitanañ’ i sikadañeio.
6 I opened to my beloved; but my beloved left; and had gone away. My heart went out when he spoke. I looked for him, but I did not find him. I called him, but he did not answer.
Nisokafeko i kokoakoy, fe nitolik’ ane i kokoakoy, fa nienga; toe nilesa ty troko amy saontsi’ey; pinaiko fe tsy nahatrea, kinoiko fe tsy nanoiñe.
7 The watchmen who go about the city found me. They beat me. They bruised me. The keepers of the walls took my cloak away from me.
Nitendrek’ ahy o mpigaritseo, ie nañariofe’ iereo i rovay; linafa’ iereo, vinonotrobo’ iereo; tinava’ o mpigari-kijolio i sarokoy!
8 I adjure you, daughters of Jerusalem, If you find my beloved, that you tell him that I am faint with love.
Ry anak’ ampela’ Ierosalaimeo, ifantako, naho isa’ areo i kokoakoy, ino ty hisaontsia’ areo? Izaho toiram-pikokoañe.
9 How is your beloved better than another beloved, you fairest among women? How is your beloved better than another beloved, that you do so adjure us?
Mpikoko manao akore i mpikoko azoy, ry hatrenotrenon’ ampelao? Mpikoko manao akore i mpikoko azoy, ie namantok’ anay.
10 My beloved is radiant and tan. The best among ten thousand.
Miloeloe i kokoakoy mbore volovoloeñe, miambak’ ami’ty alen-dahy.
11 His head is like the purest gold. His hair is bushy, black as a raven.
Volamena hiringiri’e ty añambone’e; mitaporetaporetse o maroi’eo, hamaintem-bolon-drelove.
12 His eyes are like doves beside the water brooks, washed with milk, mounted like jewels.
Hoe deho añ’olon-torahañe eo o fihaino’eo, sinasa an-dronono, soa fimoneñe am-pitoboha’eo.
13 His cheeks are like a bed of spices with towers of perfumes. His lips are like lilies, dropping liquid myrrh.
Hoe tihin-ahemañitse, kijolin-kamañirañe, o fiambina’eo; vinda mitsopake rame o soñi’eo.
14 His hands are like rings of gold set with beryl. His body is like ivory work overlaid with sapphires.
Bodam-bolamena o fità’eo, ibangoan’ tarsise, hoe te nifen-drimo nivàñeñe, niravahañe safira ty fañòva’e.
15 His legs are like pillars of marble set on sockets of fine gold. His appearance is like Lebanon, excellent as the cedars.
Bodan-tsinihara nandreketam-bolamena ki’e o fandia’eo. Manahak’ i Libanone ty vinta’e, ami’ ty hasoa’ o mendorave’eo.
16 His mouth is sweetness; yes, he is altogether lovely. This is my beloved, and this is my friend, daughters of Jerusalem.
Loho mamy ty falie’e; vata’e mahasinda; ie i kokoakoy naho i rañekoy, ry anak’ampela’ Ierosalaimeo.
