Isaiah 15
1 The burden of Moab. For in a night, Ar of Moab is laid waste, and brought to nothing. For in a night Kir of Moab is laid waste, and brought to nothing.
Ty bekoeñe i Moabe: Amy haleñe androtsahañe i Arey, mongotse ty Moabe; amy haleñe androtsahañe i Kirey, mongotse ty Moabe.
2 They have gone up to Bayith, and to Dibon, to the high places, to weep. Moab wails over Nebo and over Medeba. Baldness is on all of their heads. Every beard is cut off.
Nionjoñe mb’amy Baite mb’eo re, mb’amy Dibone, naho o haboañeo hirovetse; mb’amy Nebò naho i Medeba, mañaolo t’i Moabe; sola peake ze hene añambone, hinitsike ze fonga somatse.
3 In their streets, they clothe themselves in sackcloth. In their streets and on their housetops, everyone wails, weeping abundantly.
Misikin-gony an-dalañe eo; songa mangololoike, mangoihoy ty rovetse o an-tafon’ anjomba naho an-tameañeo.
4 Heshbon cries out with Elealeh. Their voice is heard even to Jahaz. Therefore the armed men of Moab cry aloud. Their souls tremble within them.
Mikaikaike ka ty Kesbone naho i Elalè; tsanoñeñe pak’e Iatsà ty feo’ iareo; mikointsañe o lahin-defo’ i Moabeo; mitoirañe an-tro’e ao ty fiai’e.
5 My heart cries out for Moab! Her nobles flee to Zoar, to Eglath Shelishiyah; for they go up by the ascent of Luhith with weeping; for on the way to Horonaim, they raise up a cry of destruction.
Tolihe’ ty troko t’i Moabe, ie mitriban-day mb’e Tsoare mb’eo o sehanga’eo, i kiloa telo taoñey; fa amy fitroara’ i Lotitey eo ty angololoiha’ iareo am-panganihañe, amy lala’ i Koronaimey ty ikoiha’ iareo hazolava.
6 For the waters of Nimrim will be desolate; for the grass has withered away, the tender grass fails, there is no green thing.
Koake o rano’ i Nimrimeo; hene niforejeje ty ahetse, niheatse o bokao, tsy aman’ antsetra.
7 Therefore they will carry away the abundance they have gotten, and that which they have stored up, over the brook of the willows.
Aa le hasese’ iareo mb’an-Torahan-Tsohihy mb’eo ty vara nivokare’ iereo, ty vokatse nahaja’ iareo an-driha ao.
8 For the cry has gone around the borders of Moab, its wailing to Eglaim, and its wailing to Beer Elim.
Nanitsike i Moabe pak’añ’efe-tane’e añe i koikey, i fañaoloa’ey pak’ Eglaime, i fangololoiha’ey pake Birelime.
9 For the waters of Dimon are full of blood; for I will bring yet more on Dimon, a lion on those of Moab who escape, and on the remnant of the land.
Atse-dio ty rano’ i Dimone; fe mbe ho tompeako ty Dimone, ty liona, amo hivoratsake boake Moabeo, naho amo sehanga’ i taneio.
