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.
[HE] I have entered my garden, my sister, bride, I have plucked my myrrh, with my balsam, I have eaten the honey of my thicket, I have drunk my wine, with my milk: —Eat ye, O friends, Drink, yea drink abundantly, ye beloved!
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.”
[SHE] I, was sleeping, but, my heart, was awake, —The voice of my beloved—knocking! Open to me, my sister, my fair one, my dove, my perfect one, for, my head, is filled with dew, my locks, with the moisture of the night.
3 Ndabvisa nguo yangu, ndoipfekazve here? Ndashambidza tsoka dzangu, ndodzisvibisazve here?
I have put off my tunic, oh how shall I put it on? I have bathed my feet, oh how shall I soil them?
4 Mudiwa wangu akapinza ruoko rwake nepahwangwadza yomukova; mwoyo wangu wakatanga kumudokwairira.
My beloved, thrust in his hand, at the window, and, my feelings, were deeply moved for him:
5 Ndakasimuka kuti ndizarurire mudiwa wangu, maoko angu akadonha mura, mimwe yangu ichiyerera mura, pazvibato zvechizarira.
I myself, arose, to open to my beloved, —and, my hands, dripped with myrrh, and, my fingers, with myrrh distilling, upon the handles of the bolt.
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 myself, opened to my beloved, but, my beloved, had turned away, had passed on, —My soul, had gone out when he spake, I sought him, but found him not, I called him, but he answered not.
7 Varindi vakandiona pavaiva pabasa ravo rokufamba-famba vachichengetedza guta. Vakandirova, vakandikuvadza; vakanditorera jasi rangu, ivavo varindi vamasvingo!
The watchmen who were going round in the city, found me, they smote me, wounded me, —The watchmen of the walls, took away my cloak from off me.
8 Imi vanasikana veJerusarema, ndinokurayirai, kana mukaona mudiwa wangu, muchamuudzeiko? Mumuudze kuti ndinorwara nerudo.
I adjure you, ye daughters of Jerusalem, —If ye find my beloved, what will ye tell him? That, sick with love, I am.
9 Mudiwa wako akanaka kukunda vamwe pakudii, iwe zvako wakanaka kukunda vamwe vakadzi? Mudiwa wako akanaka kukunda vamwe pakudii, zvaunotirayira kudaro?
[DAUGHTERS OF JERUSALEM] What is thy beloved more than any other beloved, thou most beautiful among women? What is thy beloved more than any other beloved, that, thus, thou hast adjured us?
10 Mudiwa wangu akanaka uye mutsvuku, anokunda vanokwana zviuru gumi.
[SHE.] My beloved, is white and ruddy, conspicuous beyond ten thousand:
11 Musoro wake igoridhe chairo; bvudzi rake rinoyevedza uye rakasviba segunguo.
His head, is pure gold, —his locks, are bushy, black as a raven;
12 Meso ake akafanana nenjiva dziri pahova dzemvura, dzakashambidzwa mumukaka, akarongwa sezvishongo.
His eyes, like doves, by the channels of water, —bathing in milk, set as gems in a ring:
13 Matama ake akaita semihomba yezvinonhuhwira inobereka zvinonhuhwira. Miromo yake yakaita samaruva amahapa anodonha mura.
His cheeks, like a raised bed of balsam, growing plants of perfume, —His lips, lilies, dripping with myrrh distilling:
14 Maoko ake itsvimbo dzegoridhe dzakaiswa mabwe anokosha ekrisorite. Muviri wake wakaita senyanga dzenzou dzinobwinya dzakashongedzwa nesafire.
His hands, cylinders of gold, set with topaz, —His body, wrought work of ivory, covered with sapphires:
15 Makumbo ake imbiru dzamabwe machena akamiswa pazvigadziko zvegoridhe rakanatswa. Chimiro chake chakaita seRebhanoni, chakanakisisa semisidhari yayo.
His legs, pillars of white marble, founded on sockets of gold, —His form, like Lebanon, choice as cedars:
16 Muromo wake inhapitapi pachayo; zvirokwazvo akaisvonaka. Uyu ndiye mudiwa wangu, ndiye shamwari yangu, imi vanasikana veJerusarema.
His mouth, most sweet, yea, altogether, he is delightful, —This, is my beloved, yea, this, is my dear one, ye daughters of Jerusalem.
