Song of Solomon 7
1 How beautiful, are thy feet in sandals, O daughter of a noble, —The curvings of thy hips, are like ornaments wrought by the hands of a skilled workman:
Yaa intala ilma mootii, miilli kee kophee keessatti akkam bareeda! Gudeedni kee miidhagaan sun dooqa gatii guddaa kan ogeessi hojii harkaa tolche fakkaata.
2 Thy navel, is a round bowl, may it not lack spiced wine! Thy body, a heap of wheat fenced about with lilies;
Handhuurri kee xoofoo geengoo kan takkumaa daadhiin wayinii wal makaan keessaa hin dhabamin fakkaata. Mudhiin kee immoo tuullaa qamadii kan daraaraadhaan marfame fakkaata.
3 Thy two breasts, are like two young roes, the twins of a gazelle:
Guntunni kee lamaan akkuma ilmoolee kuruphee kanneen lakkuu dhalatanii ti.
4 Thy neck, is like a tower of ivory, —Thine eyes, are pools in Heshbon, by the gate of Bath-rabbim, Thy nose, is like the tower of Lebanon, which looketh towards Damascus:
Mormi kee gamoo ilka arbaa fakkaata. Iji kee haroo Heshboon kan karra Baatrabii biraa fakkaata. Funyaan kee gamoo Libaanoon kan gara Damaasqoo gad ilaalu fakkaata.
5 Thy head upon thee, is like Carmel, And, the hair of thy head, is like purple, —The king, is held captive by the ringlets!
Mataan kee akkuma Tulluu Qarmeloos gonfoo siif taʼa. Rifeensi mataa keetii afaa mana mootii fakkaata; mootiin dheerina isaatiin qabamee boojiʼama.
6 [HE] How beautiful, and how delightful, O dear love, for delights:
Yaa jaalallee ati gammachuu kee wajjin akkam bareedda; akkamis namatti tolta!
7 This thy stature, is like to a palm-tree, and, thy breasts, are like clusters:
Dhaabni kee dhaaba meexxii fakkaata; guntunni kees hurbuu ijaa fakkaata.
8 I said, I will ascend the palm-tree, I will lay hold of its fruit stalks—Oh then, let thy breasts, I pray thee, be like vine-clusters, And, the fragrance of thy nose, like apples;
Anis, “Muka meexxii kana nan yaabbadha; ija isaa nan qabadha” nan jedhe. Guntunni kee akkuma hurbuu wayinii, urgaan hafuura keetii akkuma urgaa hudhaa ti;
9 And, thy mouth, like good wine—[SHE] Flowing to my beloved smoothly, gliding over the lips of the sleeping.
afaan kees akkuma daadhii wayinii kan akka malee gaarii taʼee ti. Ishee Daadhiin wayinii suutumaan hidhii fi ilkaan irra gad yaaʼee gara michuu koo haa dhaqu.
10 I, am my beloved’s, and, unto me, is his longing.
Ani kan michuu koo ti; hawwiin isaas anumaaf.
11 Come, my beloved, Let us go forth into the country, Let us stay the night in the villages:
Yaa michuu ko, kottu mee gara baadiyyaa haa deemnu; gandoota achii keessa haa bullu.
12 Let us get up early to the vineyards, Let us see whether the vine, hath burst forth, the blossom, hath opened, the pomegranates, have bloomed, —There, will I give my caresses to thee.
Akka mukni wayinii hudhaa baafate, akka daraaraan ija banatee fi akka roomaaniin daraare ilaaluuf ganama bariin kaanee gara iddoo dhaabaa wayinii haa deemnu; anis achitti jaalala koo siif nan kenna.
13 The love-apples, have given fragrance, and, at our openings, are all precious things, new and yet old, —O my beloved! I have treasured them up for thee.
Hudhaan urgaa isaa gad dhiisa; yaa michuu ko, wanni ani siif kuuse, haaraa fi moofaanis wanni filatamaan hundi balbala keenya dura jira.
