Rwiyo Rukuru rwaSoromoni 5
1 Ndauya zvangu mubindu rangu, hanzvadzi yangu, iwe mwenga wangu; ndaunganidza mura yangu pamwe chete nezvinonhuhwira zvangu. Ndadya zinga rangu rouchi nouchi hwangu; ndanwa waini yangu nomukaka wangu. Shamwari Idyai, imi shamwari, uye munwe; inwai mugute, imi vanodanana.
I am come into my garden, my sister, [my] bride; I have plucked my myrrh with my spice; I have eaten my sugar-cane with my honey; I have drunk my wine with my milk: eat, ye companions; drink, yea, drink abundantly, ye friends.—
2 Ndakavata asi mwoyo wangu wakanga wakasvinura. Inzwai! Mudiwa wangu ari kugogodza, achiti, “Ndizarurire, hanzvadzi yangu, mudiwa wangu, njiva yangu, wangu asina chinongo. Musoro wangu wanyorova nedova, bvudzi rangu ranyoroveswa nounyoro hweusiku.”
I slept, but my heart was awake: [there was] the voice of my beloved that knocked, “Open for me, my sister, my beloved, my dove, my guiltless one; for my head is filled with dew, and my locks with the drops of the night.”
3 Ndabvisa nguo yangu, ndoipfekazve here? Ndashambidza tsoka dzangu, ndodzisvibisazve here?
I have put off my coat: how shall I put it on? I have washed my feet: how shall I defile them?
4 Mudiwa wangu akapinza ruoko rwake nepahwangwadza yomukova; mwoyo wangu wakatanga kumudokwairira.
My friend stretched forth his hand through the opening, and my inmost parts were moved for him.
5 Ndakasimuka kuti ndizarurire mudiwa wangu, maoko angu akadonha mura, mimwe yangu ichiyerera mura, pazvibato zvechizarira.
I rose up myself to open for my friend; and my hands dropped with myrrh, and my fingers with fluid myrrh, upon the handles of the lock.
6 Ndakazarurira mudiwa wangu, asi mudiwa wangu akanga abva; akanga atoenda. Mwoyo wangu wakarwadziwa nokuenda kwake. Ndakamutsvaka asi handina kumuwana. Ndakamudana asi haana kupindura.
I indeed opened for my beloved; but my beloved had vanished, and was gone: my soul had failed me while he was speaking; I sought him, but I could not find him; I called him, but he answered me not.
7 Varindi vakandiona pavaiva pabasa ravo rokufamba-famba vachichengetedza guta. Vakandirova, vakandikuvadza; vakanditorera jasi rangu, ivavo varindi vamasvingo!
Then found me the watchmen that walked about the city; they smote me, they wounded me: they took away my vail from me, they that watched the walls.
8 Imi vanasikana veJerusarema, ndinokurayirai, kana mukaona mudiwa wangu, muchamuudzeiko? Mumuudze kuti ndinorwara nerudo.
I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if ye find my beloved, what will ye tell him? that I am sick of love.—
9 Mudiwa wako akanaka kukunda vamwe pakudii, iwe zvako wakanaka kukunda vamwe vakadzi? Mudiwa wako akanaka kukunda vamwe pakudii, zvaunotirayira kudaro?
What is thy friend more than another's friend, O thou fairest of women? what is thy friend more than another's friend, that thus thou adjurest us?—
10 Mudiwa wangu akanaka uye mutsvuku, anokunda vanokwana zviuru gumi.
My friend is white and ruddy, distinguished among ten thousand.
11 Musoro wake igoridhe chairo; bvudzi rake rinoyevedza uye rakasviba segunguo.
His head is bright as the finest gold, his locks are like waving foliage, and black as a raven.
12 Meso ake akafanana nenjiva dziri pahova dzemvura, dzakashambidzwa mumukaka, akarongwa sezvishongo.
His eyes are like [those of] doves by streamlets of waters, bathed in milk, well fitted in their setting.
13 Matama ake akaita semihomba yezvinonhuhwira inobereka zvinonhuhwira. Miromo yake yakaita samaruva amahapa anodonha mura.
His cheeks are as a bed of spices, as turrets of sweet perfumes: his lips, like lilies, dropping with fluid myrrh.
14 Maoko ake itsvimbo dzegoridhe dzakaiswa mabwe anokosha ekrisorite. Muviri wake wakaita senyanga dzenzou dzinobwinya dzakashongedzwa nesafire.
His hands are like wheels of gold beset with the chrysolite: his body, an image made of ivory overlaid with sapphires.
15 Makumbo ake imbiru dzamabwe machena akamiswa pazvigadziko zvegoridhe rakanatswa. Chimiro chake chakaita seRebhanoni, chakanakisisa semisidhari yayo.
His legs are like pillars of marble, resting upon sockets of fine gold: his countenance is as Lebanon, excellent like the cedars.
16 Muromo wake inhapitapi pachayo; zvirokwazvo akaisvonaka. Uyu ndiye mudiwa wangu, ndiye shamwari yangu, imi vanasikana veJerusarema.
His palate is full of sweets, and every thing in him is agreeable. This is my friend, and this is my beloved, O daughters of Jerusalem.—
