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 am come into my garden, my sister, [my] spouse; 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; drink, yea, drink abundantly, beloved ones!
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 slept, but my heart was awake. The voice of my beloved! he knocketh: Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, mine undefiled; For my head is filled with dew, My locks with the drops of the night.
3 Nziggyeko ekkooti yange, nnaagyambala ntya nate? Nanaabye ebigere, nnaddayo ntya mu ttaka gye binaddugalira?
— I have put off my tunic, how should I put it on? I have washed my feet, how should I pollute them? —
4 Muganzi wange bwe yakwata ku munyolo, omutima gwange ne gubuukabuuka.
My beloved put in his hand by the hole [of the door]; And my bowels yearned 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 to my beloved; And my hands dropped with myrrh, And my fingers with liquid myrrh, Upon the handles of the lock.
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I opened to my beloved; But my beloved had withdrawn himself; he was gone: My soul went forth when he spoke. I sought him, but I found him not; I called him, but he gave me no answer.
7 Abakuumi baansanga bwe baali nga balawuna mu kibuga; baankuba, ne bandeetako ebinuubule, ne batwala n’ekyambalo kyange, abasajja abo abakuuma bbugwe.
The watchmen that went about the city found me; They smote me, they wounded me; The keepers of the walls took away my veil from me.
8 Mmwe abawala ba Yerusaalemi, mbakuutira nti bwe mulaba ku muganzi wange, mumutegeeze ng’okwagala kwange gy’ali bwe kunzita.
I charge you, daughters of Jerusalem, If ye find my beloved, ...What will ye tell him? — That I am sick of 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?
What is thy beloved more than [another] beloved, Thou fairest among women? What is thy beloved more than [another] beloved, That thou dost so charge us?
10 Muganzi wange alabika bulungi nnyo era mumyufu, atabula ne mu bantu omutwalo.
My beloved is white and ruddy, The chiefest among ten thousand.
11 Omutwe gwe gwa zaabu ennongoose ennyo; n’enviiri ze zirimu amayengo, era nzirugavu nga nnamuŋŋoona.
His head is [as] the finest gold; His locks are flowing, black as the 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 by the water-brooks, Washed with milk, fitly set;
13 Amatama ge gali ng’emisiri egy’obuwoowo, obuleeta akaloosa akalungi. Emimwa gye giri ng’amalanga agakulukuta mooli.
His cheeks are as a bed of spices, raised beds of sweet plants; His lips lilies, dropping liquid myrrh.
14 Emikono gye giri ng’emitayimbwa egya zaabu egiteekebwamu amayinja ag’omuwendo. Omubiri gwe guli ng’amasanga amayooyote agatoneddwa ne safiro.
His hands gold rings, set with the chrysolite; His belly is bright ivory, overlaid [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, pillars of marble, set upon bases of fine gold: His bearing as Lebanon, excellent 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: Yea, he is altogether lovely. This is my beloved, yea, this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem.
