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.
[HE] I have entered my garden, my sister, bride, I have plucked my myrrh, with my balsam, I have eaten the honey of my thicket, I have drunk my wine, with my milk: —Eat ye, O friends, Drink, yea drink abundantly, ye beloved!
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.”
[SHE] I, was sleeping, but, my heart, was awake, —The voice of my beloved—knocking! Open to me, my sister, my fair one, my dove, my perfect one, for, my head, is filled with dew, my locks, with the moisture of the night.
3 Nĩndutĩte nguo yakwa ya igũrũ: no nginya ndĩmĩĩhumbe rĩngĩ? Ningĩ nĩndĩthambĩte magũrũ: no nginya ndĩmekĩre gĩko rĩngĩ?
I have put off my tunic, oh how shall I put it on? I have bathed my feet, oh how shall I soil them?
4 Mwendwa wakwa araikirie guoko gwake kamwanya-inĩ ka mũrango, nayo ngoro yakwa ĩrambĩrĩria kũmwĩrirĩria.
My beloved, thrust in his hand, at the window, and, my feelings, were deeply moved for him:
5 Ndĩrokĩra kũhingũrĩra mwendwa wakwa, moko makwa magĩtaataga manemane, nacio ciara ciakwa ikanyũrũrũkia manemane, nyiitĩro-inĩ ya mũrango.
I myself, arose, to open to my beloved, —and, my hands, dripped with myrrh, and, my fingers, with myrrh distilling, 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 myself, opened to my beloved, but, my beloved, had turned away, had passed on, —My soul, had gone out when he spake, I sought him, but found him not, I called him, but he answered not.
7 Arangĩri maranyona magĩthiũrũrũka itũũra-inĩ rĩu inene. Nao marahũũrire, marandihangia; marandunya nguo yakwa ya igũrũ, arangĩri acio a thingo!
The watchmen who were going round in the city, found me, they smote me, wounded me, —The watchmen of the walls, took away my cloak from off me.
8 Inyuĩ aarĩ aya a Jerusalemu, ndamwĩhĩtithia atĩrĩ: mũngĩona mwendwa wakwa-rĩ, mũkũmwĩra atĩa? Mwĩrei atĩ ndĩ mũcuce nĩ wendo.
I adjure you, ye daughters of Jerusalem, —If ye find my beloved, what will ye tell him? That, sick with love, I am.
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?
[DAUGHTERS OF JERUSALEM] What is thy beloved more than any other beloved, thou most beautiful among women? What is thy beloved more than any other beloved, that, thus, thou hast adjured us?
10 Mwendwa wakwa nĩ mũthaka na agatunĩha, nĩekũũranĩte harĩ arũme ngiri ikũmi.
[SHE.] My beloved, is white and ruddy, conspicuous beyond ten thousand:
11 Mũtwe wake ũhaana ta thahabu theru mũno; njuĩrĩ yake ĩrĩ na mĩkumba, na ĩkaira ta ihuru.
His head, is pure gold, —his locks, are bushy, 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, like doves, by the channels of water, —bathing in milk, set as gems in a ring:
13 Makai make namo mahaana ta tũmĩgũnda tũtumanĩte mahuti manungi wega magĩtararĩka. Mĩromo yake no ta itoka igũita manemane.
His cheeks, like a raised bed of balsam, growing plants of perfume, —His lips, lilies, dripping with myrrh distilling:
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, cylinders of gold, set with topaz, —His body, wrought work of ivory, covered 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, pillars of white marble, founded on sockets of gold, —His form, like Lebanon, choice as 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, most sweet, yea, altogether, he is delightful, —This, is my beloved, yea, this, is my dear one, ye daughters of Jerusalem.
