Song of Solomon 2
1 As a lily among the thorns,
Meyɛ Saron nhwiren ne bɔnhwa mu sukooko.
2 So [is] my friend among the daughters!
Sɛdeɛ sukooko a ɛwɔ nkasɛɛ mu teɛ no saa ara na me dɔfoɔ te wɔ mmabaawa mu.
3 As a citron among trees of the forest, So [is] my beloved among the sons, In his shade I delighted, and sat down, And his fruit [is] sweet to my palate.
Sɛdeɛ aprɛ teɛ wɔ kwaeɛ mu nnua mu no saa ara na me dɔfoɔ teɛ wɔ mmaranteɛ mu. Sɛ metena ne nwunu mu a, menya ahomeka na nʼaba nso yɛ mʼanom dɛ.
4 He hath brought me in unto a house of wine, And his banner over me [is] love,
Ɔde me akɔ apontoɔ ase, na mʼahyɛnsodeɛ yɛ ɔdɔ.
5 Sustain me with grape-cakes, Support me with citrons, for I [am] sick with love.
Momma me bobe aba na menya ahoɔden, momma me aprɛ na ɛnnwodwo me, ɛfiri sɛ ɔdɔ ama matɔ baha.
6 His left hand [is] under my head, And his right doth embrace me.
Ne nsa benkum da mʼatikɔ, na ne nsa nifa aka me afam ne bo.
7 I have adjured you, daughters of Jerusalem, By the roes or by the hinds of the field, Stir not up nor wake the love till she please!
Yerusalem mmammaa, mehyɛ mo sɛ, Momfa wiram atwewa ne ɔforoteɛ nka ntam sɛ morennyane, na morenhwanyane ɔdɔ mu kɔsi ɛberɛ a ɛsɛ mu.
8 The voice of my beloved! lo, this — he is coming, Leaping on the mountains, skipping on the hills.
Tie! Me dɔfoɔ! Hwɛ! Ɔno na ɔreba no, ɔrehurihuri wɔ mmepɔ no so na ɔbɔ pentenkwa wɔ nkokoɔ no so.
9 My beloved [is] like to a roe, Or to a young one of the harts. Lo, this — he is standing behind our wall, Looking from the windows, Blooming from the lattice.
Me dɔfoɔ te sɛ ɔtwe anaa ɔforoteɛ. Hwɛ! Ɔgyina yɛn ɔfasuo akyi, ɔhwɛ mpomma no mu, wagyene nʼani hwɛ ntokua no mu.
10 My beloved hath answered and said to me, 'Rise up, my friend, my fair one, and come away,
Me dɔfoɔ kasa kyerɛɛ me sɛ, “Sɔre, me dɔfoɔ ne mʼahoɔfɛ na bra me nkyɛn.
11 For lo, the winter hath passed by, The rain hath passed away — it hath gone.
Hwɛ! Awɔberɛ atwam; na osutɔ atwam kɔ.
12 The flowers have appeared in the earth, The time of the singing hath come, And the voice of the turtle was heard in our land,
Nhwiren afifiri asase ani: nnwontoɔ berɛ aso. Wɔte mmorɔnoma su wɔ yɛn asase so.
13 The fig-tree hath ripened her green figs, And the sweet-smelling vines have given forth fragrance, Rise, come, my friend, my fair one, yea, come away.
Borɔdɔma agu nhyerɛnne; na bobe hwa agye baabiara. Sɔre bra, me dɔfoɔ; mʼahoɔfɛ bra me nkyɛn.”
14 My dove, in clefts of the rock, In a secret place of the ascent, Cause me to see thine appearance, Cause me to hear thy voice, For thy voice [is] sweet, and thy appearance comely.
Mʼaborɔnoma a wohyɛ abotan ntokuro mu ahinta wɔ mmepɔ so, ma me nhunu wʼanim; ma mente wo nne; wo nne yɛ dɛ, na wʼanim yɛ fɛ.
15 Seize ye for us foxes, Little foxes — destroyers of vineyards, Even our sweet-smelling vineyards.
Monkyekyere sakraman no mma yɛn, sakraman nketewa no a wɔsɛe bobe nturo, yɛn bobe nturo a ayɛ frɔmm no.
16 My beloved [is] mine, and I [am] his, Who is delighting among the lilies,
Me dɔfoɔ yɛ me dea, na mewɔ no; ɔhwehwɛ sukooko no mu.
17 Till the day doth break forth, And the shadows have fled away, Turn, be like, my beloved, To a roe, or to a young one of the harts, On the mountains of separation!
Ɛnkɔsi sɛ adeɛ bɛkye na sunsumma bɛsene akɔ no, dane wo ho me dɔfoɔ, na yɛ sɛ ɔtwewa anaa ɔforoteɛ a ɔwɔ nkokoɔ mmɔnkyi mmɔnka no so.
