Song of Solomon 6
1 Whither hath thy beloved gone, O fair among women? Whither hath thy beloved turned, And we seek him with thee?
«Séning söyümlüküng nege ketkendu, Qiz-ayallar arisida eng güzel bolghuchi? Séning söyümlüküng qeyerge burulup ketti? Biz sen bilen bille uni izdeyli!»
2 My beloved went down to his garden, To the beds of the spice, To delight himself in the gardens, and to gather lilies.
«Méning söyümlüküm öz béghigha chüshti, Tétitqu otyashliqlargha chüshti. Baghlarda ozuqlinishqa, Niluperlerni yighishqa chüshti.
3 I [am] my beloved's, and my beloved [is] mine, Who is delighting himself among the lilies.
Men méning söyümlükümningkidurmen, We söyümlüküm méningkidur; U öz padisini niluperler arisida baqidu»
4 Fair [art] thou, my friend, as Tirzah, Comely as Jerusalem, Awe-inspiring as bannered hosts.
«Sen güzel, i söyümlüküm, Tirzah shehiridek güzel; Yérusalémdek yéqimliq, Tughlarni kötürgen bir qoshundek heywetliktursen;
5 Turn round thine eyes from before me, Because they have made me proud. Thy hair [is] as a row of the goats, That have shone from Gilead,
Ah, közliringni mendin ketküzgin! Chünki ular méning üstümdin ghalib kéliwatidu; Chachliring Giléad téghi baghrida yatqan bir top öchkilerdektur.
6 Thy teeth as a row of the lambs, That have come up from the washing, Because all of them are forming twins, And a bereaved one is not among them.
Chishliring yéngila yuyulushtin chiqqan qirqilghan bir top qoylardek; Ularning hemmisi qoshkézek tughqanlardindur; Ular arisida héchbiri kem emestur;
7 As the work of the pomegranate [is] thy temple behind thy veil.
Chümbiling keynide chékiliring parche anardur.
8 Sixty are queens, and eighty concubines, And virgins without number.
Atmish xanish, seksen kénizekmu bar; Qizlar sanaqsiz;
9 One is my dove, my perfect one, One she [is] of her mother, The choice one she [is] of her that bare her, Daughters saw, and pronounce her happy, Queens and concubines, and they praise her.
Biraq méning paxtikim, ghubarsizim bolsa birdinbirdur; Anisidin tughulghanlar ichide tengdashsiz bolghuchi, Özini tughquchining tallighinidur. Qizlar uni körüp, uni bextlik dep atashti, Xanishlar we kénizeklermu körüp uni maxtashti».
10 'Who [is] this that is looking forth as morning, Fair as the moon — clear as the sun, Awe-inspiring as bannered hosts?'
«Tang seher jahan’gha qarighandek, Aydek güzel, aydingdek roshen, Illiq quyashtek yoruq, Tughlarni kötürgen qoshunlardek heywetlik bolghuchi kimdur?»
11 Unto a garden of nuts I went down, To look on the buds of the valley, To see whither the vine had flourished, The pomegranates had blossomed —
«Méghizlar béghigha chüshtüm, Jilghidiki gül-giyahlarni körüshke, Üzüm télining bixlighan-bixlimighanliqini körüshke, Anarlarning chéchekligen-chécheklimigenlikini körüshke;
12 I knew not my soul, It made me — chariots of my people Nadib.
Biraq bile-bilmey, Jénim méni kötürüp, Ésil xelqimning jeng harwiliri üstige qoyghaniken».
13 Return, return, O Shulammith! Return, return, and we look upon thee. What do ye see in Shulammith?
«Qaytqin, qaytqin, i Shulamit — Qaytqin, qaytqin, bizning sanga qarighumiz bardur!» «Siler Shulamitning némisige qarighunglar bar?» «“Ikki bargah” ussulgha chüshken waqtidikidek uninggha qaraymiz!»
