Song of Solomon 8

8 ¹Oh, if only you be like broda to me, wey suck for my mama breast! If I see you outside, I go kiss you, and nobody go look me anyhow. ²I go lead you and carry you enter my mama house—she wey teach me. I go give you wine wey get spice make you drink, di juice of my pomegranate. ³Im left hand dey under my head, and im right hand dey hold me tight. ⁴I dey beg una, una daughters of Jerusalem: no gbage or wake love until di time wey e ready.

⁵Na who be dis wey dey comot from di desert, wey lean for di one wey she love? Under di apple tree I wake you; na dia your mama labour for you, na dia she wey born you labour.

⁶Put me like seal for your heart, like seal for your arm; because love strong like death, im jealousy hard like grave. E dey flash like fire, di very flame of our Papa. ^a a v6 Dem name di fire of love here after God imsef — dis love dey burn with di very flame of our Papa, di deepest source of all true love wey nobody fit quench. ⁷Plenty waters no fit quench love, and rivers no fit carry am comot. If man offer all di wealth of im house for love, dem go just scorn am well well.

⁸We get one small sister, and she never get breast. Wetin we go do for our sister for di day wey dem go ask for her hand? ⁹If she be wall, we go build tower of silver ontop am; but if she be door, we go cover am with cedar board.

¹⁰I be wall, and my breast be like towers; den for im eye I come be like person wey don find peace. ¹¹Solomon get one vineyard for Baal-hamon; e rent am give farmers wey go work am, and each one suppose bring 1,000 pieces of silver for im fruit. ¹²My own vineyard, wey na my very own, dey my front. Di 1,000 na your own, Solomon, and 200 for dem wey dey keep im fruit.

¹³You wey dey live inside di gardens, my companions dey listen for your voice; make I hear am.

¹⁴Come quick, my beloved, and be like gazelle or young stag ontop di mountains of spices.