< Song of Solomon 4 >

1 Behold, thou art faire, my loue: behold, thou art faire: thine eyes are like the doues: among thy lockes thine heare is like the flocke of goates, which looke downe from the mountaine of Gilead.
Ala bèl ou bèl, anmòrèz mwen! Ala bèl ou bèl dèyè vwal ki sou tèt ou a! Je ou yo ou ta di de ti pijon. Cheve ou yo ap danse tankou yon bann kabrit k'ap kouri desann sou mòn Galarad.
2 Thy teeth are like a flocke of sheepe in good order, which go vp from the washing: which euery one bring out twinnes, and none is barren among them.
Dan ou yo blan tankou mouton yo fèk sot benyen apre yo fin koupe lenn sou do yo. Ou pa manke yonn ladan yo. Tout dan anwo yo mache ak dan anba yo.
3 Thy lippes are like a threede of scarlet, and thy talke is comely: thy temples are within thy lockes as a piece of a pomegranate.
Po bouch ou, ou ta di yon bèl ti riban wouj. Se bèl plezi pou tande w'ap pale! De bò figi ou yo ou ta di de bò grenad anba vwal ou a.
4 Thy necke is as the tower of Dauid builte for defence: a thousand shieldes hang therein, and all the targates of the strong men.
Kou ou kanpe tankou bèl fò won David la, kote yo kenbe depo zam yo. Se la vanyan sòlda yo vin pandye mil plak fè pwotèj.
5 Thy two breastes are as two young roes that are twinnes, feeding among the lilies.
Tete ou yo doubout tankou de ti gazèl, tankou de ti gazèl menm fòs, menm pòte k'ap manje nan jaden flè.
6 Vntill the day breake, and the shadowes flie away, I wil go into the mountaine of myrrhe and to the mountaine of incense.
M'ap rete sou mòn mant lan, sou ti bit lansan an jouk bajou kase, jouk solèy leve.
7 Thou art all faire, my loue, and there is no spot in thee.
Ou pa manke bèl, anmòrèz mwen! Depi nan pwent zòtèy ou jouk nan pwent cheve ou, ou san defo!
8 Come with me from Lebanon, my spouse, euen with me from Lebanon, and looke from the toppe of Amanah, from the toppe of Shenir and Hermon, from the dennes of the lyons, and from the mountaines of the leopards.
Ann al avè m' non! Ann desann mòn Liban an, fiyanse mwen! Ann desann mòn Liban an! N'ap rete sou tèt mòn Amana, sou mòn Seyi ak sou mòn Emon kote lyon ak leyopa rete, n'ap gade plenn lan anba.
9 My sister, my spouse, thou hast wounded mine heart: thou hast wounded mine heart with one of thine eyes, and with a chaine of thy necke.
Sò mwen, bèl nègès mwen, ou annik gade m' yon fwa, ou fè m' pèdi lòlòj mwen. M' annik wè yonn nan bèl ti chenn nan kou ou yo, m' pèdi tèt mwen.
10 My sister, my spouse, how faire is thy loue? howe much better is thy loue then wine? and the sauour of thine oyntments then all spices?
Ala dous karès ou yo dous, sò mwen, bèl nègès mwen! Karès ou yo pi dous pase siwo myèl. Sant kò ou pi bon pase tout kalite fèy santi bon.
11 Thy lippes, my spouse, droppe as honie combes: honie and milke are vnder thy tongue, and the sauoure of thy garments is as the sauoure of Lebanon.
Bouch ou gen gou siwo myèl, bèl nègès mwen! Anba lang ou menm, se lèt ak siwo myèl. Rad sou ou gen menm sant ak rakbwa mòn Liban an.
12 My sister my spouse is as a garden inclosed, as a spring shut vp, and a fountaine sealed vp.
Sò mwen, bèl nègès mwen, ou tankou yon jaden kache, yon sous dlo yo fèmen dèyè miray, yon fontenn yo sele.
13 Thy plantes are as an orchard of pomegranates with sweete fruites, as camphire, spikenarde,
Ou tankou yon jaden fre kote pye grenad ap grandi. Y'ap bay bèl grenad byen dous. Ou tankou yon jaden kote yo jwenn jasmen ak ti bonm,
14 Euen spikenarde, and saffran, calamus, and cynamon with all the trees of incense, myrrhe and aloes, with all the chiefe spices.
tibonm ak safran, sitwonèl ak kannèl ak tout kalite pyebwa ki bay lansan, lami ak lalwa, ansanm ak tout kalite plant ki gen bon sant.
15 O fountaine of the gardens, O well of liuing waters, and the springs of Lebanon.
Fontenn jaden mwen an, se yon sous dlo k'ap koule desann byen fre soti nan mòn Liban an.
16 Arise, O North, and come O South, and blowe on my garden that the spices thereof may flow out: let my welbeloued come to his garden, and eate his pleasant fruite.
Van nòde, leve non! Van swèt, kouri vini soufle sou jaden mwen an! Plen lè a ak bon sant. Vini non, mennaj mwen! Antre nan jaden ki pou ou a! Manje nan pi bon fwi yo!

< Song of Solomon 4 >