Nnwom Mu Dwom 2
1 Meyɛ Saron nhwiren ne bɔnhwa mu sukooko.
As a lily among the thorns,
2 Sɛdeɛ sukooko a ɛwɔ nkasɛɛ mu teɛ no saa ara na me dɔfoɔ te wɔ mmabaawa mu.
So [is] my friend among the daughters!
3 Sɛdeɛ aprɛ teɛ wɔ kwaeɛ mu nnua mu no saa ara na me dɔfoɔ teɛ wɔ mmaranteɛ mu. Sɛ metena ne nwunu mu a, menya ahomeka na nʼaba nso yɛ mʼanom dɛ.
As a citron among trees of the forest, So [is] my beloved among the sons, In his shade I delighted, and sat down, And his fruit [is] sweet to my palate.
4 Ɔde me akɔ apontoɔ ase, na mʼahyɛnsodeɛ yɛ ɔdɔ.
He hath brought me in unto a house of wine, And his banner over me [is] love,
5 Momma me bobe aba na menya ahoɔden, momma me aprɛ na ɛnnwodwo me, ɛfiri sɛ ɔdɔ ama matɔ baha.
Sustain me with grape-cakes, Support me with citrons, for I [am] sick with love.
6 Ne nsa benkum da mʼatikɔ, na ne nsa nifa aka me afam ne bo.
His left hand [is] under my head, And his right doth embrace me.
7 Yerusalem mmammaa, mehyɛ mo sɛ, Momfa wiram atwewa ne ɔforoteɛ nka ntam sɛ morennyane, na morenhwanyane ɔdɔ mu kɔsi ɛberɛ a ɛsɛ mu.
I have adjured you, daughters of Jerusalem, By the roes or by the hinds of the field, Stir not up nor wake the love till she please!
8 Tie! Me dɔfoɔ! Hwɛ! Ɔno na ɔreba no, ɔrehurihuri wɔ mmepɔ no so na ɔbɔ pentenkwa wɔ nkokoɔ no so.
The voice of my beloved! lo, this — he is coming, Leaping on the mountains, skipping on the hills.
9 Me dɔfoɔ te sɛ ɔtwe anaa ɔforoteɛ. Hwɛ! Ɔgyina yɛn ɔfasuo akyi, ɔhwɛ mpomma no mu, wagyene nʼani hwɛ ntokua no mu.
My beloved [is] like to a roe, Or to a young one of the harts. Lo, this — he is standing behind our wall, Looking from the windows, Blooming from the lattice.
10 Me dɔfoɔ kasa kyerɛɛ me sɛ, “Sɔre, me dɔfoɔ ne mʼahoɔfɛ na bra me nkyɛn.
My beloved hath answered and said to me, 'Rise up, my friend, my fair one, and come away,
11 Hwɛ! Awɔberɛ atwam; na osutɔ atwam kɔ.
For lo, the winter hath passed by, The rain hath passed away — it hath gone.
12 Nhwiren afifiri asase ani: nnwontoɔ berɛ aso. Wɔte mmorɔnoma su wɔ yɛn asase so.
The flowers have appeared in the earth, The time of the singing hath come, And the voice of the turtle was heard in our land,
13 Borɔdɔma agu nhyerɛnne; na bobe hwa agye baabiara. Sɔre bra, me dɔfoɔ; mʼahoɔfɛ bra me nkyɛn.”
The fig-tree hath ripened her green figs, And the sweet-smelling vines have given forth fragrance, Rise, come, my friend, my fair one, yea, come away.
14 Mʼaborɔnoma a wohyɛ abotan ntokuro mu ahinta wɔ mmepɔ so, ma me nhunu wʼanim; ma mente wo nne; wo nne yɛ dɛ, na wʼanim yɛ fɛ.
My dove, in clefts of the rock, In a secret place of the ascent, Cause me to see thine appearance, Cause me to hear thy voice, For thy voice [is] sweet, and thy appearance comely.
15 Monkyekyere sakraman no mma yɛn, sakraman nketewa no a wɔsɛe bobe nturo, yɛn bobe nturo a ayɛ frɔmm no.
Seize ye for us foxes, Little foxes — destroyers of vineyards, Even our sweet-smelling vineyards.
16 Me dɔfoɔ yɛ me dea, na mewɔ no; ɔhwehwɛ sukooko no mu.
My beloved [is] mine, and I [am] his, Who is delighting among the lilies,
17 Ɛnkɔsi sɛ adeɛ bɛkye na sunsumma bɛsene akɔ no, dane wo ho me dɔfoɔ, na yɛ sɛ ɔtwewa anaa ɔforoteɛ a ɔwɔ nkokoɔ mmɔnkyi mmɔnka no so.
Till the day doth break forth, And the shadows have fled away, Turn, be like, my beloved, To a roe, or to a young one of the harts, On the mountains of separation!
