Rwĩmbo 5
1 Wee mwarĩ wa maitũ o wee mũhiki wakwa, nĩndoka mũgũnda-inĩ wakwa; nĩnjookanĩrĩirie manemane makwa na mahuti makwa marĩa mangĩ manungi wega. Nĩndĩĩte magua makwa, o na ũũkĩ wakwa; nĩnyuĩte ndibei yakwa, o na iria rĩakwa. Arata Inyuĩ arata-rĩ, rĩai na mũnyue; inyuĩ mwendaine-rĩ, nyuai nginya mũiganie.
[[Lov.]] I am come to my garden, my sister, my spouse! I gather my myrrh with my balsam, I eat my honeycomb with my honey, I drink my wine with my milk. Eat, O friends! Drink, yea, drink abundantly, my loved companions!
2 Ndĩrarĩ toro, no ngoro yakwa nĩĩreiguĩte. Ta thikĩrĩria! Mwendwa wakwa nĩararingaringa mũrango, akiugaga atĩrĩ: “Mwarĩ wa maitũ, wee mwendwa wakwa, wee ndutura yakwa, o wee wakwa ũtarĩ kaũcuuke-rĩ, hingũrĩra. Mũtwe wakwa nĩũihũgĩtio nĩ ime, njuĩrĩ yakwa ĩkaiyũra ireera rĩa ũtukũ.”
[[M.]] I slept, but my heart was awake; It was the voice of my beloved, who was knocking: “Open to me, my sister, my love, My dove, my perfect one! For my head is filled with dew, And my locks with the drops of the night.”
3 Nĩndutĩte nguo yakwa ya igũrũ: no nginya ndĩmĩĩhumbe rĩngĩ? Ningĩ nĩndĩthambĩte magũrũ: no nginya ndĩmekĩre gĩko rĩngĩ?
“I have taken off my vest [[said I]]; How shall I put it on? I have washed my feet; How shall I soil them?”
4 Mwendwa wakwa araikirie guoko gwake kamwanya-inĩ ka mũrango, nayo ngoro yakwa ĩrambĩrĩria kũmwĩrirĩria.
My beloved put in his hand by the hole of the door, And my heart was moved for him.
5 Ndĩrokĩra kũhingũrĩra mwendwa wakwa, moko makwa magĩtaataga manemane, nacio ciara ciakwa ikanyũrũrũkia manemane, nyiitĩro-inĩ ya mũrango.
I rose up to open to my beloved, And my hands dropped with myrrh, And my fingers with self-flowing myrrh, upon the handles of the bolt.
6 Ndĩrahingũrĩire mwendwa wakwa, no mwendwa wakwa ndararĩ ho, nĩarathiĩte; Nayo ngoro yakwa ĩroorwo nĩ hinya nĩ ũndũ wake gũthiĩ. Ndĩramwethire, no ndinamuona. Ndĩramwĩtire, no ndananjĩtĩka.
I opened to my beloved; But my beloved had withdrawn himself, and was gone. I was not in my senses while he spake with me! I sought him, but could not find him; I called him, but he gave me no answer.
7 Arangĩri maranyona magĩthiũrũrũka itũũra-inĩ rĩu inene. Nao marahũũrire, marandihangia; marandunya nguo yakwa ya igũrũ, arangĩri acio a thingo!
The watchmen that go about the city found me; They smote me, they wounded me; The keepers of the walls took away from me my veil.
8 Inyuĩ aarĩ aya a Jerusalemu, ndamwĩhĩtithia atĩrĩ: mũngĩona mwendwa wakwa-rĩ, mũkũmwĩra atĩa? Mwĩrei atĩ ndĩ mũcuce nĩ wendo.
I charge you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem! If ye should find my beloved, —What will ye tell him? That I am sick with love.
9 Wee mũthaka gũkĩra andũ-a-nja arĩa angĩ othe-rĩ, mwendwa waku aagĩrĩte agakĩra endwa arĩa angĩ na kĩ? Mwendwa waku akĩrĩte endwa arĩa angĩ nakĩ, nĩguo ũtwĩhĩtithie ũguo?
[[Lad.]] What is thy beloved more than another beloved, O thou fairest among women! What is thy beloved more than another beloved, That thus thou dost charge us?
10 Mwendwa wakwa nĩ mũthaka na agatunĩha, nĩekũũranĩte harĩ arũme ngiri ikũmi.
[[M.]] My beloved is white and ruddy, The chief among ten thousand.
11 Mũtwe wake ũhaana ta thahabu theru mũno; njuĩrĩ yake ĩrĩ na mĩkumba, na ĩkaira ta ihuru.
His head is as the most fine gold; His locks waving palm-branches, Black as a raven;
12 Maitho make mahaana ta ma ndutura ciũmbĩte tũrũũĩ-inĩ, mahaana ta mathambĩtio na iria, o ta maigĩtwo wega makaagĩrĩra ta mathaga.
His eyes are doves by streams of water, Washed with milk, dwelling in fulness;
13 Makai make namo mahaana ta tũmĩgũnda tũtumanĩte mahuti manungi wega magĩtararĩka. Mĩromo yake no ta itoka igũita manemane.
His cheeks are like a bed of balsam, Like beds of spices; His lips are lilies Dropping self-flowing myrrh;
14 Moko make mahaana ta thanju cia thahabu, itheecereirwo tũhiga-inĩ tũrĩa twĩtagwo thumarati; mwĩrĩ wake ũhaana ta mũguongo ũrĩa mũnyorokie, ũgemetio na yakuti ĩrĩa theru.
His hands are gold rings set with chrysolite; His body is wrought-work of ivory, overlaid with sapphires;
15 Magũrũ make matariĩ ta itugĩ cia mahiga ma mũthemba wa marimari, ihaandĩrĩirwo itina-inĩ cia thahabu ĩrĩa therie. Maũthĩ make matariĩ ta Lebanoni, agathakara ta mĩtarakwa yakuo.
His legs are marble pillars, resting on pedestals of fine gold; His aspect is like Lebanon, Majestic like the cedars;
16 Kanua gake akĩaria karĩ mũrĩo mũno; we nĩ wa kwendeka biũ. Atĩrĩrĩ, ũyũ nĩwe mwendwa wakwa, ũyũ nĩwe mũrata wakwa, inyuĩ aarĩ a Jerusalemu.
His mouth is sweetness; His whole being, loveliness. This is my beloved, This my friend, O ye daughters of Jerusalem!
