Song of Solomon 4
1 Behold, you are beautiful, my love. Behold, you are beautiful. Your eyes are like doves behind your veil. Your hair is as a flock of goats, that descend from Mount Gilead.
Akore ty hahomozohozo’o, ry kokoakoo, toe tsomerentsereñe; deho am-boho’ o marerarera’oo o fihaino’oo; hoe lia-rain-ose mivovotse am-pizotsoa’ i Gilade o maròi’oo.
2 Your teeth are like a newly shorn flock, which have come up from the washing, where every one of them has twins. None is bereaved among them.
Hoe ty rene’añondry hinitsike mitroatse am-panasañe o famotsi’oo, songa aman-drahamba’e, leo raik’ ama’e tsy doñ-anake.
3 Your lips are like scarlet thread. Your mouth is lovely. Your temples are like a piece of a pomegranate behind your veil.
Hoe fole-mena o fivimbi’oo vaho fanjaka o falie’oo. Hoe vakim-boan-draketamena roe o fitendrean’ aoli’oo an-kalo o marerarera’oo.
4 Your neck is like David’s tower built for an armory, on which a thousand shields hang, all the shields of the mighty men.
Manahake ty fitilik’abo’ i Davide ty fititia’o, rinanjy am-bato miriritse, iradoradoa’ ty fikalan-defoñe arivo, songa fikalam-panalolahy.
5 Your two breasts are like two fawns that are twins of a roe, which feed among the lilies.
Hoe fanaloke tora’e o fatroa’oo, sarake hambañe mihota am-binda ao.
6 Until the day is cool, and the shadows flee away, I will go to the mountain of myrrh, to the hill of frankincense.
Ampara’ ty fanintsiñañ’ andro, an-kalavaen-talinjo, homb’am-bohin-tsotse mb’eo raho, mb’an-kaboan-drame mb’eo.
7 You are all beautiful, my love. There is no spot in you.
Solanto’e rehe, ry mami’ ty troko, tsy aman-kila.
8 Come with me from Lebanon, my bride, with me from Lebanon. Look from the top of Amana, from the top of Senir and Hermon, from the lions’ dens, from the mountains of the leopards.
Mindreza lia amako boake Libanone añe ry enga-vaoko, ehe itraofo hirike Libanone añe; mizotsoa boak’an-dengo’ i Amane ey, boak’an-kaboa’ i Senire, an-digiligi’ i Kermone eñe, boak’amo fipaliram-parasio, o vohim-panalokeo.
9 You have ravished my heart, my sister, my bride. You have ravished my heart with one of your eyes, with one chain of your neck.
Fa tinava’o ty troko, ry rahavaveko, enga-vaoko; kinizo’o an-driom-paom-pihaino’o, ami’ty bange’o raik’ am-pititia’o eo.
10 How beautiful is your love, my sister, my bride! How much better is your love than wine, the fragrance of your perfumes than all kinds of spices!
Fanjaka ty fikokoa’o, rahavaveko, enga-vaoko! loho soa te amo divaio ty fikokoa’o, naho ty harifondrifon-drano mañi’o te amy ze atao emboke!
11 Your lips, my bride, drip like the honeycomb. Honey and milk are under your tongue. The smell of your garments is like the smell of Lebanon.
Mitsopatsopake ty hamamim-papy tantele o fivimbi’oo, ry enga-vaokoo, habobo naho tantele ty ambane’ famele’o ao. Manahake ty harifondrifo’ i Libanone ty hamañin-tsaro’o.
12 My sister, my bride, is a locked up garden; a locked up spring, a sealed fountain.
Goloboñe mihily ty zaiko, enga-vaoko. Loha rano mifahetse, figoangoan-drano mikapeke.
13 Your shoots are an orchard of pomegranates, with precious fruits, henna with spikenard plants,
Raketa miregorego soa o hataen-golobo’oo, naho voan-katae fanjaka, mañi-dè mitrao-tseva:
14 spikenard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon, with every kind of incense tree; myrrh and aloes, with all the best spices,
Rame miharo ahemañitse, hazomañitse naho somoroñe, naho ze hene hatae marifondrifoñe, mitraoke tsotse naho vahoñe vaho ze atao hafiriañe.
15 a fountain of gardens, a well of living waters, flowing streams from Lebanon.
Rano migoangoañe an-goloboñe ao rehe, vovon-drano mamy mitsiritsioke boake Libanone añe.
16 Awake, north wind, and come, you south! Blow on my garden, that its spices may flow out. Let my beloved come into his garden, and taste his precious fruits.
Mitsekafa ry avaratse, mb’etoy ry atimo! Tiofo i golobokoy, hampiboeleañe o hamañi’eo. Ee te hizilik’ an-golobo’e ao i kokoakoy hitsopeke o voa’e mafirio.
