Song of Solomon 7
1 As the chorus of 'Mahanaim.' How beautiful were thy feet with sandals, O daughter of Nadib. The turnings of thy sides [are] as ornaments, Work of the hands of an artificer.
Fanjaka o fandia’o mihànao, ry anak’ ampelan-droandria! hoe hange nitoloñem-pitàm-pitsene mahimbañe ty hahomozohozom-pe’o.
2 Thy waist [is] a basin of roundness, It lacketh not the mixture, Thy body a heap of wheat, fenced with lilies,
Fitovy bontoly ty foe’o, ie le lia’e tsy po-divay milaro; fitoboron’ ampemba iarikatoham-binda o araña’oo.
3 Thy two breasts as two young ones, twins of a roe,
Fanaloke tora’e o fatroa’oo, ana-kambam-panalon-drene’e.
4 Thy neck as a tower of the ivory, Thine eyes pools in Heshbon, near the gate of Bath-Rabbim, Thy face as a tower of Lebanon looking to Damascus,
Hoe fitilik’abo aman-tsifan-drimo ty fititia’o. O antara’ i Kesbone marine’ i lalam-bei’ i Bate-Rabimeio o fihaino’oo. I fitilik’abo’ i Libanoney mitolike mbe Damesèke ty fiantsona’o.
5 Thy head upon thee as Carmel, And the locks of thy head as purple, The king is bound with the flowings!
Misabaka azo manahake i vohi-Karmeley ty añambone’o, le mahasinda i mpanjakay o firandra’eo.
6 How fair and how pleasant hast thou been, O love, in delights.
Akore ty hatsomerentsere’o naho ty hatrenotreno’o ry kokoako, toe mahafale!
7 This thy stature hath been like to a palm, And thy breasts to clusters.
Mitroatse hoe voanio ty sandri’o, le mitoboro hoe o voa’eo o fatroa’oo.
8 I said, 'Let me go up on the palm, Let me lay hold on its boughs, Yea, let thy breasts be, I pray thee, as clusters of the vine, And the fragrance of thy face as citrons,
Aa hoe iraho: Hanganiheko i voanioy, naho ho rambeseko o voa’eo; fa hanahake ty voam-bahe o fatroa’oo, naho minday ty harifondrifom-boasare ty sehaseha’o,
9 And thy palate as the good wine — 'Flowing to my beloved in uprightness, Strengthening the lips of the aged!
Hoe divay fanjaka ty lañilañi’o; malama ty fisorogoda’e ho a i kokoakoy, hoe mitsiritsioke mora am-pivimbim-pirotse.
10 I [am] my beloved's, and on me [is] his desire.
A i kokoakoy raho naho amako ty fañiria’e.
11 Come, my beloved, we go forth to the field,
Antao, kokoako, homb’ an-kaloke mb’eo, hialeñe amo kialoo.
12 We lodge in the villages, we go early to the vineyards, We see if the vine hath flourished, The sweet smelling-flower hath opened. The pomegranates have blossomed, There do I give to thee my loves;
Antao hañaleñaleñe mb’an-tanem-bahe mb’eo handrèndreke ty fibotibotia’ o vaheo, ke te miborake o voñe’eo, hera mamolera o raketao; ao ty hanjotsoako ama’o ty hateako, ry kokoako.
13 The mandrakes have given fragrance, And at our openings all pleasant things, New, yea, old, my beloved, I laid up for thee!
Mañakatse ty hañi’e o vahenamaloo, hene raha mafiry ty an-tsariran-tikañe eo, ty vao naho ty haehae, songa nahajako ho azo, ry kokoako.
