Song of Solomon 2

1 I am the flower of the field, and the lily of the valleys.

Èmi ni ìtànná Ṣaroni bí ìtànná lílì àwọn àfonífojì.

2 As the lily among thorns, so is my love among the daughters.

Bí ìtànná lílì ní àárín ẹ̀gún ni olólùfẹ́ mi ní àárín àwọn wúńdíá.

3 As the apple tree among the trees of the woods, so is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his shadow, whom I desired: and his fruit was sweet to my palate.

Bí igi ápù láàrín àwọn igi inú igbó, ni olólùfẹ́ mí láàrín àwọn ọ̀dọ́mọkùnrin. Mo fi ayọ̀ jókòó ní abẹ́ òjìji rẹ̀, èso rẹ̀ sì dùn mọ́ mi ní ẹnu.

4 He brought me into the cellar of wine, he set in order charity in me.

Ó mú mi lọ sí ibi gbọ̀ngàn àsè, ìfẹ́ sì ni ọ̀págun rẹ̀ lórí mi.

5 Stay me up with flowers, compass me about with apples: because I languish with love.

Fi agbára adùn àkàrà dá mi dúró. Fi èso ápù tù mi lára nítorí àìsàn ìfẹ́ ń ṣe mí.

6 His left hand is under my head, and his right hand shall embrace me.

Ọwọ́ òsì rẹ ń bẹ lábẹ́ orí mi ọwọ́ ọ̀tún rẹ sì ń gbà mí mọ́ra.

7 I adjure you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, and the harts of the, fields, that you stir not up, nor make the beloved to awake, till she please.

Ẹ̀yin ọmọbìnrin Jerusalẹmu, mo fi abo egbin àti ọmọ àgbọ̀nrín fi yín bú kí ẹ má ṣe ru ìfẹ́ olùfẹ́ mi sókè kí ẹ má sì ṣe jí i títí yóò fi wù ú.

8 The voice of my beloved, behold he cometh leaping upon the mountains, skipping over the hills.

Gbọ́ ohùn olùfẹ́ mi! Wò ó! Ibí yìí ni ó ń bọ̀. Òun ń fò lórí àwọn òkè ńlá, òun bẹ́ lórí àwọn òkè kéékèèké.

9 My beloved is like a roe, or a young hart. Behold he standeth behind our wall, looking through the windows, looking through the lattices.

Olùfẹ́ mi dàbí abo egbin tàbí ọmọ àgbọ̀nrín. Wò ó! Níbẹ̀ ni ó wà lẹ́yìn ògiri wa Ó yọjú ní ojú fèrèsé Ó ń fi ara rẹ̀ hàn lójú fèrèsé ọlọ́nà.

10 Behold my beloved speaketh to me: Arise, make haste, my love, my dove, my beautiful one, and come.

Olùfẹ́ mi fọhùn ó sì sọ fún mi pé, “Dìde, Olólùfẹ́ mi, arẹwà mi, kí o sì wà pẹ̀lú mi.

11 For winter is now past, the rain is over and gone.

Wò ó! Ìgbà òtútù ti kọjá; òjò ti rọ̀ dawọ́, ó sì ti lọ.

12 The flowers have appeared in our land, the time of pruning is come: the voice of the turtle is heard in our land:

Àwọn òdòdó fi ara hàn lórí ilẹ̀ àsìkò ìkọrin àwọn ẹyẹ dé a sì gbọ́ ohùn àdàbà ní ilẹ̀ wa.

13 The fig tree hath put forth her green figs: the vines in flower yield their sweet smell. Arise, my love, my beautiful one, and come:

Igi ọ̀pọ̀tọ́ mú èso tuntun jáde, àwọn àjàrà nípa ìtànná wọ́n fún ni ní òórùn dídùn. Dìde, wá, Olólùfẹ́ mi, Arẹwà mi nìkan ṣoṣo, wá pẹ̀lú mi.”

14 My dove in the clefts of the rock, in the hollow places of the wall, shew me thy face, let thy voice sound in my ears: for thy voice is sweet, and thy face comely.

Àdàbà mi wà nínú pàlàpálá òkúta, ní ibi ìkọ̀kọ̀ ní orí òkè gíga, fi ojú rẹ hàn mí, jẹ́ kí èmi gbọ́ ohùn rẹ; nítorí tí ohùn rẹ dùn, tí ojú rẹ sì ní ẹwà.

15 Catch us the little foxes that destroy the vines: for our vineyard hath flourished.

Bá wa mú àwọn kọ̀lọ̀kọ̀lọ̀, àní àwọn kọ̀lọ̀kọ̀lọ̀ kéékèèké tí ń ba ọgbà àjàrà jẹ́, àwọn ọgbà àjàrà wa tó ní ìtànná.

16 My beloved to me, and I to him who feedeth among the lilies,

Olùfẹ́ mi ni tèmi èmi sì ni tirẹ̀; Ó ń jẹ láàrín àwọn koríko lílì.

17 Till the day break, and the shadows retire. Return: be like, my beloved, to a roe, or to a young hart upon the mountains of Bether.

Títí ìgbà ìtura ọjọ́ títí òjìji yóò fi fò lọ, yípadà, olùfẹ́ mi, kí o sì dàbí abo egbin tàbí ọmọ àgbọ̀nrín lórí òkè Beteri.