Nahum 3
1 Woe to the city of blood, full of lies, full of plunder, never without prey.
Malè a vil sanglan an! Li plen nèt ak manti ak piyaj. Viktim li yo san fen.
2 The crack of the whip, the rumble of the wheel, galloping horse and bounding chariot!
Bri a fwèt la, bri a wou k ap sone sou wòch yo, cheval k ap galope yo ak cha k ap vòltije yo!
3 Charging horseman, flashing sword, shining spear; heaps of slain, mounds of corpses, dead bodies without end— they stumble over their dead—
Chevalye k ap kouri desann yo; nepe k ap klere yo, lans k ap briye tankou solèy yo. Anpil mò, yon gwo ma kadav, ak kò mouri san kontwòl— yo manke tonbe sou kadav mò yo!
4 because of the many harlotries of the harlot, the seductive mistress of sorcery, who betrays nations by her prostitution and clans by her witchcraft.
Tout sa akoz anpil aktivite a pwostitiye yo, sila ki vrèman byen pòtan yo, mètrès a gwo maji yo, ki vann nasyon yo nan pwostitisyon li yo, ak fanmi yo nan gwo wanga li konn fè yo.
5 “Behold, I am against you,” declares the LORD of Hosts. “I will lift your skirts over your face. I will show your nakedness to the nations and your shame to the kingdoms.
“Gade byen, Mwen vin kont ou”, deklare SENYÈ dèzame yo. Mwen va Leve jip ou jis rive nan figi ou pou montre a nasyon yo toutouni ou, pou wayòm yo wè wont ou.
6 I will pelt you with filth and treat you with contempt; I will make a spectacle of you.
Mwen va jete bagay ki sal nèt sou ou, fè ou vin avili e fè ou vin espektak.
7 Then all who see you will recoil from you and say, ‘Nineveh is devastated; who will grieve for her?’ Where can I find comforters for you?”
Konsa, li va vin rive ke tout moun ki wè ou, yo va fè bak, e yo va di: “Men Ninive fin devaste nèt! Se kilès k ap fè dèy pou li? Se kibò pou m ta jwenn moun ki pou rekonfòte ou?”
8 Are you better than Thebes, stationed by the Nile with water around her, whose rampart was the sea, whose wall was the water?
Èske ou pi bon pase Nò Amon ki te pozisyone pami rivyè yo, ki te antoure ak dlo, ki te gen lanmè kon pwotèj li, e se lanmè ki te sèvi kon miray li?
9 Cush and Egypt were her boundless strength; Put and Libya were her allies.
Se Éthiopie ki te pwisans li, ansanm ak Égypte ki te san limit. Puth ak Libie te pami soutyen ou yo.
10 Yet she became an exile; she went into captivity. Her infants were dashed to pieces at the head of every street. They cast lots for her dignitaries, and all her nobles were bound in chains.
Men li te pote ale; li te antre an kaptivite. Tout ti pitit li yo te vin kraze an mòso nan tèt tout ri yo. Yo te fè tiraj osò pou onorab li yo, e mesye pwisan li yo te mare nan chèn.
11 You too will become drunk; you will go into hiding and seek refuge from the enemy.
Ou menm tou va vin sou nèt. Ou va kache. Ou menm tou va chache yon kote pou ou kache akoz de ènmi an.
12 All your fortresses are fig trees with the first ripe figs; when shaken, they fall into the mouth of the eater!
Tout gwo fò nou yo va tankou pye fig etranje ak fwi ki mi— lè yo sekwe yo, yo tonbe nan bouch a sila k ap manje yo a.
13 Look at your troops— they are like your women! The gates of your land are wide open to your enemies; fire consumes their bars.
Gade byen, pèp ou a se fanm yo ye pami nou! Pòtay peyi ou yo vin ouvri byen laj bay lènmi ou yo. Dife fin devore baryè pòtay ou yo.
14 Draw your water for the siege; strengthen your fortresses. Work the clay and tread the mortar; repair the brick kiln!
Rale dlo ou pou kont ou pou fè syèj la! Ranfòse fò ou yo! Antre nan ajil la, e foule mòtye a anba pye ou. Byen bati kay fou k ap fè brik yo fò!
15 There the fire will devour you; the sword will cut you down and consume you like a young locust. Make yourself many like the young locust; make yourself many like the swarming locust!
La, dife sa menm va vin devore ou nèt. Nepe va koupe retire ou nèt. Li va devore ou tankou krikèt volan. Li va fè ou vin anpil tankou yon krikèt volan. Li va fè ou vin anpil tankou krikèt.
16 You have multiplied your merchants more than the stars of the sky. The young locust strips the land and flies away.
Ou fin ogmante machann ou yo plis pase zetwal syèl yo— krikèt volan ravaje, epi, konsa, li vole ale.
17 Your guards are like the swarming locust, and your scribes like clouds of locusts that settle on the walls on a cold day. When the sun rises, they fly away, and no one knows where.
Gad nou yo tankou krikèt. Jandam nou yo tankou gwo lame krikèt volan k ap poze sou wòch nan jou fredi. Lè solèy la leve yo sove ale. Kote yo rive a, pèsòn pa konnen.
18 O king of Assyria, your shepherds slumber; your officers sleep. Your people are scattered on the mountains with no one to gather them.
Bèje ou yo ap dòmi, O wa Assyrie. Prens ou yo kouche nèt. Pèp ou an vin gaye sou mòn yo, e nanpwen moun ki pou rasanble yo.
19 There is no healing for your injury; your wound is severe. All who hear the news of you applaud your downfall, for who has not experienced your constant cruelty?
Nanpwen ti pansman pou sa k ap fè ou mal la. Blesi ou a p ap ka geri. Tout moun ki tande koze ou va bat men yo sou ou, paske kilès moun san rete, ki pa t resevwa nan mechanste ou?
