Song of Solomon 5
1 I have come into my garden, my sister, my spouse: 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, O friends; drink, yea, drink abundantly, O beloved.
Abatala m nʼubi m a gbara ogige, nwanne m nwanyị, nwunye ọhụrụ m. Achịkọtala m máá ya na ụda m, arachakwala m mmanụ aṅụ m na ugbugbo mmanụ aṅụ. Aṅụkwala m mmiri ara ehi na mmanya m. Ndị Enyi Rie, ṅụọkwa, unu ndị bụ enyi; ṅụjuo afọ, unu ndị hụrụ onwe unu nʼanya.
2 I sleep, but my heart waketh: it is the voice of my beloved that knocketh, saying, Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled: for my head is filled with dew, and my locks with the drops of the night.
A rahụrụ m ụra, ma obi m mụ anya. Gee ntị, onye ahụ m hụrụ nʼanya na-akụ aka nʼibo ọnụ ụzọ. “Megheere m ụzọ, nwanne m nwanyị, onye m hụrụ nʼanya, nduru m, onye na-enweghị ntụpọ. Igirigi ezokwasịla m nʼisi, agịrị isi m jupụtara na mmiri nke abalị.”
3 I have put off my coat; how shall I put it on? I have washed my feet; how shall I defile them?
Eyipụlarị m uwe m. Ọ bụ m yirikwa ha ọzọ? Asaala m ụkwụ m, aga m eme ka ha ruo unyi ọzọ?
4 My beloved put his hand through the opening of the door, and my heart was moved for him.
Onye m hụrụ nʼanya gbatịrị aka ya imeghe ụzọ, mgbe ahụ, obi m chọsikwara ya ike.
5 I rose up to open to my beloved; and my hands flowed with myrrh, and my fingers with sweet smelling myrrh, upon the handles of the lock.
Mụ onwe m biliri imeghere onye m hụrụ nʼanya ụzọ, ma aka m abụọ jupụtakwara na mmanụ máá, mmanụ máá si na mkpịsịaka m niile na-atapụsi, nʼelu ihe mkpọchi nke ibo.
6 I opened to my beloved; but my beloved had withdrawn himself, and was gone: my soul failed when he spoke: I sought him, but I could not find him; I called him, but he gave me no answer.
Mgbe m megheere onye m hụrụ nʼanya ụzọ, ma lee, ọ nọkwaghị ya, ọ laala. Obi fepụrụ m mgbe ọ pụwara. Elegharịrị m anya chọọ ya ma ahụghị m ya ebe ọbụla. Akpọrọ m ya oku ma ọ zaghị.
7 The watchmen that went about the city found me, they smote me, they wounded me; the keepers of the walls took away my veil from me.
Ndị nche hụrụ m mgbe ha na-agagharị nʼobodo, ha tiri m ihe merụọ m ahụ. Ndị nche mgbidi obodo napụrụ m akwa mkpuchi m.
8 I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if ye find my beloved, that ye tell him, that I am sick with love.
Unu ụmụ agbọghọ Jerusalem, ana m agba unu iyi, ọ bụrụ na unu ahụ onye m hụrụ nʼanya, gịnị ka unu ga-agwa ya? Gwa ya na abụ m onye ịhụnanya mere ka ike gwụchasịa nʼahụ.
9 What is thy beloved more than another beloved, O thou fairest among women? what is thy beloved more than another beloved, that thou dost so charge us?
Gị nwanyị kachasị mma, olee otu onye ị hụrụ nʼanya si dị mma karịa ndị ọzọ? Olee otu onye ị hụrụ nʼanya si dị mma karịa ndị ọzọ nke i ji enye anyị iwu dị otu a?
10 My beloved is white and ruddy, the chief among ten thousand.
Onye m hụrụ nʼanya chapụrụ achapụ, dị mma ile anya. Ọ pụrụ iche nʼetiti puku ndị nwoke iri.
11 His head is as the most fine gold, his locks are bushy, and black as a raven.
Isi ya dịka ọlaedo a nụchara anụcha, agịrị isi ya na-eruda dịka igu nkwụ, na-ejikwa nji dịka ugolọma.
12 His eyes are as the eyes of doves by the rivers of waters, washed with milk, and fitly set.
Anya ya abụọ dịka nduru nọ nʼakụkụ mmiri iyi nke e jiri mmiri ara ehi sachaa, dịka nkume dị oke ọnụahịa e doro nʼahịrị.
13 His cheeks are as a bed of spices, as sweet flowers: his lips like lilies, dropping sweet smelling myrrh.
Nti ya abụọ dị ka ihe ndina ụda nke jupụtara na mmanụ isi ụtọ. Egbugbere ọnụ ya dị ka okoko urodi, nke na-agbụsị mmanụ máá.
14 His hands are as gold rings set with the beryl: his belly is as bright ivory overlaid with sapphires.
Aka ya abụọ dị ka mkpara ọlaedo a kpụziri akpụzi, nke a hịọnyere nkume oke ọnụahịa beril nʼime ya. Ahụ ya na-akwọ mụrụmụrụ dịka ọdụ nke e ji nkume dị oke ọnụahịa safaia chọọ mma.
15 His legs are as pillars of marble, set upon sockets of fine gold: his countenance is as Lebanon, excellent as the cedars.
Ogwe ụkwụ ya abụọ dị ka ogidi e ji nkume mabụl kpụọ, nke e ji ọlaedo a ṅụchara anụcha tọọ ntọala ha. Ụdịdị ya dị ka Lebanọn, dịkwa oke ọnụ dịka osisi sida ya.
16 His mouth is most sweet: yea, he is altogether lovely. This is my beloved, and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem.
Ọnụ ya bụ ihe tọkarịsịrị ụtọ nʼonwe ya, ihe niile banyere ya dị mma nʼile anya. Unu ụmụ agbọghọ Jerusalem, onye dị otu a bụ onye ahụ m hụrụ nʼanya, ọ bụkwa enyi m.
