Song of Solomon 2
1 I am a rose of Sharon, A lily of the valleys.
Meyɛ Saron nhwiren ne bɔnhwa mu sukooko.
2 As a lily among thorns, So is my love among the daughters.
Sɛdeɛ sukooko a ɛwɔ nkasɛɛ mu teɛ no saa ara na me dɔfoɔ te wɔ mmabaawa mu.
3 As the apple-tree among the trees of the wood, So is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his shadow with great delight, And his fruit was sweet to my taste.
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.
4 He brought me to the banqueting-house, And his banner over me was love.
Ɔde me akɔ apontoɔ ase, na mʼahyɛnsodeɛ yɛ ɔdɔ.
5 Stay ye me with raisins, refresh me with apples; For I am sick from love.
Momma me bobe aba na menya ahoɔden, momma me aprɛ na ɛnnwodwo me, ɛfiri sɛ ɔdɔ ama matɔ baha.
6 His left hand [is] under my head, And his right hand doth embrace me.
Ne nsa benkum da mʼatikɔ, na ne nsa nifa aka me afam ne bo.
7 I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, By the roes, or by the hinds of the field, That ye stir not up, nor awake [my] love, Until he please.
Yerusalem mmammaa, mehyɛ mo sɛ, Momfa wiram atwewa ne ɔforoteɛ nka ntam sɛ morennyane, na morenhwanyane ɔdɔ mu kɔsi ɛberɛ a ɛsɛ mu.
8 The voice of my beloved! behold, he cometh, Leaping upon the mountains, Skipping upon the hills.
Tie! Me dɔfoɔ! Hwɛ! Ɔno na ɔreba no, ɔrehurihuri wɔ mmepɔ no so na ɔbɔ pentenkwa wɔ nkokoɔ no so.
9 My beloved is like a roe or a young hart: Behold, he standeth behind our wall; He looketh in at the windows; He glanceth through the lattice.
Me dɔfoɔ te sɛ ɔtwe anaa ɔforoteɛ. Hwɛ! Ɔgyina yɛn ɔfasuo akyi, ɔhwɛ mpomma no mu, wagyene nʼani hwɛ ntokua no mu.
10 My beloved spake, and said unto me, Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.
Me dɔfoɔ kasa kyerɛɛ me sɛ, “Sɔre, me dɔfoɔ ne mʼahoɔfɛ na bra me nkyɛn.
11 For, lo, the winter is past; The rain is over and gone;
Hwɛ! Awɔberɛ atwam; na osutɔ atwam kɔ.
12 The flowers appear on the earth; The time of the singing [of birds] is come, And the voice of the turtle-dove is heard in our land;
Nhwiren afifiri asase ani: nnwontoɔ berɛ aso. Wɔte mmorɔnoma su wɔ yɛn asase so.
13 The fig-tree ripeneth her green figs, And the vines are in blossom; They give forth their fragrance. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.
Borɔdɔma agu nhyerɛnne; na bobe hwa agye baabiara. Sɔre bra, me dɔfoɔ; mʼahoɔfɛ bra me nkyɛn.”
14 O my dove, that art in the clefts of the rock, In the covert of the steep place, Let me see thy countenance, Let me hear thy voice; For sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely.
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.
15 Take us the foxes, the little foxes, That spoil the vineyards; For our vineyards are in blossom.
Monkyekyere sakraman no mma yɛn, sakraman nketewa no a wɔsɛe bobe nturo, yɛn bobe nturo a ayɛ frɔmm no.
16 My beloved is mine, and I am his: He feedeth [his flock] among the lilies.
Me dɔfoɔ yɛ me dea, na mewɔ no; ɔhwehwɛ sukooko no mu.
17 Until the day be cool, and the shadows flee away, Turn, my beloved, and be thou like a roe or a young hart Upon the mountains of Bether.
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.
