< 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. The friends speaking to the man and the woman Eat, friends; drink and be drunk with love.
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. There is the sound of my beloved knocking and saying, “Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled one, for my head is wet with dew, my hair with the night's dampness.”
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; must I put it on again? I have washed my feet; must I get them dirty?”
Fa nafahako ty saroko— mbe haombeko hao? Fa sinasako o tombokoo— mbe ho lotoeko hao?
4 My beloved put in his hand through the opening of the door latch, and my heart was stirred up for him.
Nazili’ i kokoakoy ami’ty hiri’ i sikadañey ty fità’e; vaho nampiponaponake o añ’ovako ao.
5 I got up to open the door for my beloved; my hands were dripping with myrrh, my fingers with moist myrrh, on the door handle.
Niongake iraho hanokàfako i kokoakoy, nitsopatsopake rame o tañakoo, rame mitsiritsioke o rambo-tañakoo, amo fitanañ’ i sikadañeio.
6 I opened the door for my beloved, but my beloved had turned and gone. My heart sank when he spoke. I looked for him, but I did not find him; I called him, but he did not answer me.
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 found me as they were making their rounds in the city. They struck me and wounded me; the guards on the walls took away my cloak from me.
Nitendrek’ ahy o mpigaritseo, ie nañariofe’ iereo i rovay; linafa’ iereo, vinonotrobo’ iereo; tinava’ o mpigari-kijolio i sarokoy!
8 I want you to swear, daughters of Jerusalem, that if you find my beloved— What will you make known to him?— that I am sick from 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 man, most beautiful among women? Why is your beloved better than another beloved, that you ask us to take an oath like this?
Mpikoko manao akore i mpikoko azoy, ry hatrenotrenon’ ampelao? Mpikoko manao akore i mpikoko azoy, ie namantok’ anay.
10 My beloved is radiant and ruddy, outstanding among ten thousand.
Miloeloe i kokoakoy mbore volovoloeñe, miambak’ ami’ty alen-dahy.
11 His head is the purest gold; his hair is curly and as black as a raven.
Volamena hiringiri’e ty añambone’e; mitaporetaporetse o maroi’eo, hamaintem-bolon-drelove.
12 His eyes are like doves beside streams of water, bathed in 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 beds of spices, yielding aromatic scents. His lips are lilies, dripping liquid myrrh.
Hoe tihin-ahemañitse, kijolin-kamañirañe, o fiambina’eo; vinda mitsopake rame o soñi’eo.
14 His arms are rounded gold set with jewels; his abdomen is ivory covered with sapphires.
Bodam-bolamena o fità’eo, ibangoan’ tarsise, hoe te nifen-drimo nivàñeñe, niravahañe safira ty fañòva’e.
15 His legs are pillars of marble, set on bases of pure gold; his appearance is like Lebanon, choice 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 most sweet; he is completely 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.