Nnwom Mu Dwom 5
1 Maba me turo mu, me nuabea, mʼayeforo; maboaboa me kurobow ne me nnuhuam ano. Madi me wokyɛm ne ɛwo; manom me bobesa ne me nufusu. Nnamfonom: Nnamfonom, munnidi na monnom; Adɔfonom, monnom nea ɛbɛmee mo dɔ.
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 Medae, nanso me koma anna. Tie! me dɔfo rebɔ pon no mu; “Bue me, me nuabea, me dɔ, mʼaborɔnoma, a ne ho nni dɛm. Obosu afɔw me tirim, anadwo mu bosu afɔw me nwi.”
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 Maworɔw mʼatade, mensan mfa nhyɛ ana? Mahohoro mʼanan ase, memma ho nyɛ fi bio ana?
I have put off my coat: how shall I put it on? I have washed my feet: how shall I defile them?
4 Me dɔfo yɛɛ sɛ ɔrebue pon no me koma fii ase bɔɔ kim kim wɔ me mu.
My friend stretched forth his hand through the opening, and my inmost parts were moved for him.
5 Mesɔree sɛ merekobue me dɔfo, na me nsa ho kurobow ne me nsateaa ho aduhuam, yɛɛ korɔkorɔ no nsa ho.
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 Mibue maa me dɔfo no, nanso na ɔkɔ. Ne kɔ no maa me ho dwiriw me. Mehwehwɛɛ no nanso manhu no baabiara. Mefrɛɛ no nanso wannye me so.
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 Awɛmfo no huu me bere a wɔrebɔ aporɔw wɔ kuropɔn no mu. Wɔbobɔɔ me pirapiraa me; woyii mʼatade kɔe; saa awɛmfo a wɔwɛn afasu no!
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 Yerusalem mmabea, mehyɛ mo, sɛ muhu me dɔfo no a, asɛm bɛn na mobɛka akyerɛ no? Monka nkyerɛ no se ɔdɔ ama matɔ beraw.
I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if ye find my beloved, what will ye tell him? that I am sick of love.—
9 Dɛn na wo dɔfo de sen afoforo, mmea ahoɔfɛfo mu ahoɔfɛ? Dɛn na wo dɔfo de sen afoforo a enti wohyɛ yɛn sɛɛ?
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 Me dɔfo ho twa na ogyigye, wɔfa mpem du a, ɔyɛ sononko.
My friend is white and ruddy, distinguished among ten thousand.
11 Ne ti yɛ sikakɔkɔɔ ankasa; ne ti so nwi yɛ kuhaa, na ɛyɛ tuntum sɛ kwaakwaadabi.
His head is bright as the finest gold, his locks are like waving foliage, and black as a raven.
12 Nʼaniwa aba te sɛ aborɔnoma a ogyina asuwa bi ho; ɛte sɛ nea wɔde nufusu aguare no, na etuatua hɔ sɛ abohemaa.
His eyes are like [those of] doves by streamlets of waters, bathed in milk, well fitted in their setting.
13 Nʼafono te sɛ pɛprɛ a wɔasɛw no kɛtɛ. Ɛho hua te sɛ aduhuam. Nʼanofafa te sɛ sukooko a ɛsosɔ kurobow.
His cheeks are as a bed of spices, as turrets of sweet perfumes: his lips, like lilies, dropping with fluid myrrh.
14 Nʼabasa te sɛ sikakɔkɔɔ abaa a wɔde sikabereɛbo asisi mu. Ne nipadua te sɛ asonse a wɔatwiw ho na wɔde hoabo adura ho.
His hands are like wheels of gold beset with the chrysolite: his body, an image made of ivory overlaid with sapphires.
15 Nʼanan te sɛ abohemaa afadum a esisi sikakɔkɔɔ ankasa nnyinaso so. Ne bɔbea te sɛ Lebanon a ɔyɛ sononko sɛ ne sida.
His legs are like pillars of marble, resting upon sockets of fine gold: his countenance is as Lebanon, excellent like the cedars.
16 Nʼano te sɛ ɔdɛ ankasa; ɔkwan biara so, ne ho yɛ fɛ. Me dɔfo ni, mʼadamfo ni, Yerusalem mmabea.
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.—
