Oluyimba 5
1 Nzize mu nnimiro yange mwannyinaze, omugole wange; nkuŋŋaanyiza mooli yange n’eby’akawoowo byange. Ndidde ebisenge byange eby’omubisi gw’enjuki gwange ne nywa n’omubisi gwange, Nywedde wayini wange n’amata gange. Abemikwano Abemikwano mulye munywe, munywere ddala, mmwe abaagalana.
I have come to my garden, my sister, my bride; I have gathered my myrrh with my spice. I have eaten my honeycomb with my honey; I have drunk my wine with my milk. Eat, O friends, and drink; drink freely, O beloved.
2 Nnali ngalamidde, ng’omutima gwange guwulira. Ne mpulira muganzi wange ng’akonkona, n’ayogera nti, “Nziguliraawo mwannyinaze, Owoomukwano, ejjiba lyange, owe wange ataliiko bbala, kubanga omutwe gwange gutobye omusulo, n’enviiri zange zibisiwadde olw’obunnyogovu.”
I sleep, but my heart is awake. A sound! My beloved is knocking: “Open to me, my sister, my darling, my dove, my flawless one. My head is drenched with dew, my hair with the dampness of the night.”
3 Nziggyeko ekkooti yange, nnaagyambala ntya nate? Nanaabye ebigere, nnaddayo ntya mu ttaka gye binaddugalira?
I have taken off my robe— must I put it back on? I have washed my feet— must I soil them again?
4 Muganzi wange bwe yakwata ku munyolo, omutima gwange ne gubuukabuuka.
My beloved put his hand to the latch; my heart pounded for him.
5 Ne ngolokoka okuggulirawo muganzi wange, emikono gyange nga gitonnya mooli, n’engalo zange nga zikulukuta mooli, ku minyolo gy’ekufulu.
I rose up to open for my beloved. My hands dripped with myrrh, my fingers with flowing myrrh on the handles of the bolt.
6 Ne ŋŋenda okuggulirawo muganzi wange, naye muganzi wange ng’avuddewo, yeetambulidde. Omutima gwange gwasanyuka bwe nnawulira eddoboozi lye. Ne munoonya naye n’ambula, ne mukoowoola naye nga taddamu.
I opened for my beloved, but he had turned and gone. My heart sank at his departure. I sought him, but did not find him. I called, but he did not answer.
7 Abakuumi baansanga bwe baali nga balawuna mu kibuga; baankuba, ne bandeetako ebinuubule, ne batwala n’ekyambalo kyange, abasajja abo abakuuma bbugwe.
I encountered the watchmen on their rounds of the city. They beat me and bruised me; they took away my cloak, those guardians of the walls.
8 Mmwe abawala ba Yerusaalemi, mbakuutira nti bwe mulaba ku muganzi wange, mumutegeeze ng’okwagala kwange gy’ali bwe kunzita.
O daughters of Jerusalem, I adjure you, if you find my beloved, tell him I am sick with love.
9 Owange, kiki muganzi wo ky’alina kyasinza abalungi abalala ggwe omukazi akira abalala obulungi? Kiki muganzi wo kyasinza abalala n’okutukuutira n’otukuutira bw’otyo?
How is your beloved better than others, O most beautiful among women? How is your beloved better than another, that you charge us so?
10 Muganzi wange alabika bulungi nnyo era mumyufu, atabula ne mu bantu omutwalo.
My beloved is dazzling and ruddy, outstanding among ten thousand.
11 Omutwe gwe gwa zaabu ennongoose ennyo; n’enviiri ze zirimu amayengo, era nzirugavu nga nnamuŋŋoona.
His head is purest gold; his hair is wavy and black as a raven.
12 Amaaso ge gali ng’amayiba ku mabbali g’emigga egy’amazzi, agaanaazibwa n’amata, ne gaba ng’amayinja ag’omuwendo omungi.
His eyes are like doves beside the streams of water, bathed in milk and mounted like jewels.
13 Amatama ge gali ng’emisiri egy’obuwoowo, obuleeta akaloosa akalungi. Emimwa gye giri ng’amalanga agakulukuta mooli.
His cheeks are like beds of spice, towers of perfume. His lips are like lilies, dripping with flowing myrrh.
14 Emikono gye giri ng’emitayimbwa egya zaabu egiteekebwamu amayinja ag’omuwendo. Omubiri gwe guli ng’amasanga amayooyote agatoneddwa ne safiro.
His arms are rods of gold set with beryl. His body is an ivory panel bedecked with sapphires.
15 Amagulu ge gali ng’empagi ez’amayinja aganyirira ezisimbibwa mu zaabu ennungi. Mu ndabika afaanana Lebanooni omulungi ng’emivule gyayo.
His legs are pillars of marble set on bases of pure gold. His appearance is like Lebanon, as majestic as the cedars.
16 Enjogera ye mpomerevu, weewaawo awamu n’ebyo byonna ayagalibwa. Ono ye muganzi wange, ye mukwano gwange; mmwe abawala ba Yerusaalemi.
His mouth is most sweet; he is altogether lovely. This is my beloved, and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem.
