Tonon-kiran'i Solomona 5
1 Fa nimoak’ amy golobokoy iraho, ry zaiko, enga-vaoko; fa natontoko ty rameko naho o mañi-dèkoo; fa nihaneko ty papi-tanteleko naho ty tanteleko; fa ninomeko ty divaiko naho ty rononoko. Mikamà, ry rañetseo, naho minoma; minoma am-pidadañe, ry mpikokoo.
I have come into 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. Friends Eat, friends! Drink, yes, drink abundantly, beloved.
2 Niroro iraho fe nañente ty troko. Inay! Mañonkòñe i kokoakoy: Sokafo iraho ry zaiko, mami’ty fiaiko, ty dehoko, ginoke tsy aman-kila. Kotsa’ ty zono ty lohako, ty voloko ami’ty hamandoa’ i haleñey.
I was asleep, but my heart was awake. It is the voice of my beloved who knocks: “Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled; for my head is filled with dew, and my hair with the dampness of the night.”
3 Fa nafahako ty saroko— mbe haombeko hao? Fa sinasako o tombokoo— mbe ho lotoeko hao?
I have taken off my robe. Indeed, must I put it on? I have washed my feet. Indeed, must I soil them?
4 Nazili’ i kokoakoy ami’ty hiri’ i sikadañey ty fità’e; vaho nampiponaponake o añ’ovako ao.
My beloved thrust his hand in through the latch opening. My heart pounded for him.
5 Niongake iraho hanokàfako i kokoakoy, nitsopatsopake rame o tañakoo, rame mitsiritsioke o rambo-tañakoo, amo fitanañ’ i sikadañeio.
I rose up to open for my beloved. My hands dripped with myrrh, my fingers with liquid myrrh, on the handles of the lock.
6 Nisokafeko i kokoakoy, fe nitolik’ ane i kokoakoy, fa nienga; toe nilesa ty troko amy saontsi’ey; pinaiko fe tsy nahatrea, kinoiko fe tsy nanoiñe.
I opened to my beloved; but my beloved left, and had gone away. My heart went out when he spoke. I looked for him, but I didn’t find him. I called him, but he didn’t answer.
7 Nitendrek’ ahy o mpigaritseo, ie nañariofe’ iereo i rovay; linafa’ iereo, vinonotrobo’ iereo; tinava’ o mpigari-kijolio i sarokoy!
The watchmen who go about the city found me. They beat me. They bruised me. The keepers of the walls took my cloak away from me.
8 Ry anak’ ampela’ Ierosalaimeo, ifantako, naho isa’ areo i kokoakoy, ino ty hisaontsia’ areo? Izaho toiram-pikokoañe.
I adjure you, daughters of Jerusalem, If you find my beloved, that you tell him that I am faint with love.
9 Mpikoko manao akore i mpikoko azoy, ry hatrenotrenon’ ampelao? Mpikoko manao akore i mpikoko azoy, ie namantok’ anay.
How is your beloved better than another beloved, you fairest amongst women? How is your beloved better than another beloved, that you do so adjure us?
10 Miloeloe i kokoakoy mbore volovoloeñe, miambak’ ami’ty alen-dahy.
My beloved is white and ruddy. The best amongst ten thousand.
11 Volamena hiringiri’e ty añambone’e; mitaporetaporetse o maroi’eo, hamaintem-bolon-drelove.
His head is like the purest gold. His hair is bushy, black as a raven.
12 Hoe deho añ’olon-torahañe eo o fihaino’eo, sinasa an-dronono, soa fimoneñe am-pitoboha’eo.
His eyes are like doves beside the water brooks, washed with milk, mounted like jewels.
13 Hoe tihin-ahemañitse, kijolin-kamañirañe, o fiambina’eo; vinda mitsopake rame o soñi’eo.
His cheeks are like a bed of spices with towers of perfumes. His lips are like lilies, dropping liquid myrrh.
14 Bodam-bolamena o fità’eo, ibangoan’ tarsise, hoe te nifen-drimo nivàñeñe, niravahañe safira ty fañòva’e.
His hands are like rings of gold set with beryl. His body is like ivory work overlaid with sapphires.
15 Bodan-tsinihara nandreketam-bolamena ki’e o fandia’eo. Manahak’ i Libanone ty vinta’e, ami’ ty hasoa’ o mendorave’eo.
His legs are like pillars of marble set on sockets of fine gold. His appearance is like Lebanon, excellent as the cedars.
16 Loho mamy ty falie’e; vata’e mahasinda; ie i kokoakoy naho i rañekoy, ry anak’ampela’ Ierosalaimeo.
His mouth is sweetness; yes, he is altogether lovely. This is my beloved, and this is my friend, daughters of Jerusalem.
