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.
[[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 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.”
[[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 Nziggyeko ekkooti yange, nnaagyambala ntya nate? Nanaabye ebigere, nnaddayo ntya mu ttaka gye binaddugalira?
“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 Muganzi wange bwe yakwata ku munyolo, omutima gwange ne gubuukabuuka.
My beloved put in his hand by the hole of the door, And my heart was moved 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 self-flowing myrrh, upon 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I opened to my beloved; But my beloved had withdrawn himself, and was gone.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 Abakuumi baansanga bwe baali nga balawuna mu kibuga; baankuba, ne bandeetako ebinuubule, ne batwala n’ekyambalo kyange, abasajja abo abakuuma bbugwe.
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 Mmwe abawala ba Yerusaalemi, mbakuutira nti bwe mulaba ku muganzi wange, mumutegeeze ng’okwagala kwange gy’ali bwe kunzita.
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 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?
[[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 Muganzi wange alabika bulungi nnyo era mumyufu, atabula ne mu bantu omutwalo.
[[M.]] My beloved is white and ruddy, The chief among ten thousand.
11 Omutwe gwe gwa zaabu ennongoose ennyo; n’enviiri ze zirimu amayengo, era nzirugavu nga nnamuŋŋoona.
His head is as the most fine gold; His locks waving palm-branches, 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 doves by streams of water, Washed with milk, dwelling in fulness;
13 Amatama ge gali ng’emisiri egy’obuwoowo, obuleeta akaloosa akalungi. Emimwa gye giri ng’amalanga agakulukuta mooli.
His cheeks are like a bed of balsam, Like beds of spices; His lips are lilies Dropping self-flowing myrrh;
14 Emikono gye giri ng’emitayimbwa egya zaabu egiteekebwamu amayinja ag’omuwendo. Omubiri gwe guli ng’amasanga amayooyote agatoneddwa ne safiro.
His hands are gold rings set with chrysolite; His body is wrought-work of 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 are marble pillars, resting on pedestals of fine gold; His aspect is like Lebanon, Majestic like 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 sweetness; His whole being, loveliness. This is my beloved, This my friend, O ye daughters of Jerusalem!
