Song of Solomon 6
1 Where has your beloved gone, you fairest among women? Where has your beloved turned, that we may seek him with you?
Wee mũthaka gũkĩra andũ-a-nja arĩa angĩ othe-rĩ, mwendwa waku athiĩte kũ? Mwendwa waku arorire na kũ, nĩguo tũmũcarie nawe?
2 My beloved has gone down to his garden, to the beds of spices, to pasture his flock in the gardens, and to gather lilies.
Mwendwa wakwa aikũrũkire mũgũnda-inĩ wake, o tũmĩgũnda-inĩ tũrĩa tũtumanĩte mahuti marĩa manungi wega, athiĩte kũrĩithia kũu mĩgũnda-inĩ, agĩtuaga mahũa ma itoka.
3 I am my beloved’s, and my beloved is mine. He browses among the lilies.
Niĩ ndĩ wa mwendwa wakwa, nake nĩ wakwa; we arĩithagia itoka-inĩ.
4 You are beautiful, my love, as Tirzah, lovely as Jerusalem, awesome as an army with banners.
Wee mwendwa wakwa, ũrĩ mũthaka, o ta bũrũri wa Tiriza, ũrĩ wa kwendeka o ta Jerusalemu, na ũkamakania o ta ita rĩrĩ na bendera.
5 Turn away your eyes from me, for they have overcome me. Your hair is like a flock of goats, that lie along the side of Gilead.
Wĩhũgũre na kũngĩ, ũtige kũndora; maitho maku nĩmarahoota. Njuĩrĩ yaku no ta rũũru rwa mbũri rũgĩikũrũka Kĩrĩma kĩa Gileadi.
6 Your teeth are like a flock of ewes, which have come up from the washing, of which every one has twins; not one is bereaved among them.
Magego maku mahaana ta rũũru rwa ngʼondu ikĩambata ciumĩte gũthambio. O ĩmwe yacio ĩrĩ na ihatha rĩayo, hatirĩ o na ĩmwe yacio ĩrĩ iiki.
7 Your temples are like a piece of a pomegranate behind your veil.
Thĩa ciaku ihaana ta ciatũ igĩrĩ cia itunda rĩa mũkomamanga, ikĩonerwo hau taama-inĩ ũcio ũkũhumbĩrĩte ũthiũ.
8 There are sixty queens, eighty concubines, and virgins without number.
No gũkorwo na atumia athamaki mĩrongo ĩtandatũ, na thuriya mĩrongo ĩnana, na airĩtu gathirange matangĩtarĩka;
9 My dove, my perfect one, is unique. She is her mother’s only daughter. She is the favorite one of her who bore her. The daughters saw her, and called her blessed. The queens and the concubines saw her, and they praised her.
no ndutura yakwa, ũcio wakwa ũtarĩ ũcuuke-rĩ, gũtirĩ ũngĩ mahaanaine, nowe mũirĩtu wa nyina wiki, o we gĩtũnio kĩa ũcio mũmũciari. Airĩtu maamuonire makĩmwĩta mũrathime; nao atumia athamaki o na thuriya makĩmũkumia.
10 Who is she who looks out as the morning, beautiful as the moon, clear as the sun, and awesome as an army with banners?
Nũũ ũyũ ũroimĩra ta ruoro rũgĩtema, athakarĩte ta mweri, na agathera ta riũa, arĩ na ũkengu ta wa njata irũrũnganĩte?
11 I went down into the nut tree grove, to see the green plants of the valley, to see whether the vine budded, and the pomegranates were in flower.
Nĩndĩraikũrũkire mũgũnda wa mĩkombokombo, ngarore tũmĩtĩ tũrĩa tũmerete kũu gĩtuamba-inĩ, nĩguo nyone kana mĩthabibũ nĩĩthundũrĩte, o na kana mĩkomamanga nĩĩrutĩte kĩro.
12 Without realizing it, my desire set me with my royal people’s chariots.
O na itanamenya ũrĩa gũtariĩ-rĩ, merirĩria ma ngoro yakwa marandwara gatagatĩ-inĩ ka ngaari cia mũthamaki cia ita cia andũ aitũ.
13 Return, return, Shulammite! Return, return, that we may gaze at you. Lover Why do you desire to gaze at the Shulammite, as at the dance of Mahanaim?
Cooka, cooka, wee Mũshulamu; cooka, cooka, nĩgeetha tũkwĩrorere! Mwendani Mũkwenda kwĩrorera Mũshulamu ũyũ nĩkĩ, taarĩ rwĩmbo rwa Mahanaimu mũreerorera?
