Job 30
1 But now those who are younger than I make sport of me; those whose fathers I would not have put with the dogs of my flocks.
Men koulye a, sila ki pi jenn pase m ap giyonnen m. Papa a sila mwen pat ta dakò pou mete ansanm ak chen bann mouton yo.
2 Of what use is the strength of their hands to me? all force is gone from them.
Anverite, ki byen fòs men pa yo ta kab fè m? Gwo fòs te deja disparèt nan yo
3 They are wasted for need of food, biting the dry earth; their only hope of life is in the waste land.
akoz mank bagay ak grangou. Y ap manje tè sèk nan lannwit lan, ak pèt e ak dezolasyon an.
4 They are pulling off the salt leaves from the brushwood, and making a meal of roots.
Yo rache fèy raje nan mitan rakèt la. Manje yo se rasin bayawonn.
5 They are sent out from among their townsmen, men are crying after them as thieves
Yo chase yo deyò lavil la nan dezè; yo kriye dèyè yo tankou se vòlè,
6 They have to get a resting-place in the hollows of the valleys, in holes of the earth and rocks.
jiskaske yo vin rete nan move ravin yo, nan twou tè ak nan wòch yo.
7 They make noises like asses among the brushwood; they get together under the thorns.
Pami rak tibwa yo, yo rele fò. Anba machacha a, yo vin rasanble ansanm.
8 They are sons of shame, and of men without a name, who have been forced out of the land.
Pitit a moun fou, wi, pitit a mechan yo, yo te resevwa fwèt jis lè yo kite peyi a.
9 And now I have become their song, and I am a word of shame to them.
Men koulye a, se mwen menm yo pase nan rizib; mwen devni yon pawòl betiz pou yo.
10 I am disgusting to them; they keep away from me, and put marks of shame on me.
Yo pè m, yo kanpe lwen m, e yo pa sispann krache nan figi m.
11 For he has made loose the cord of my bow, and put me to shame; he has sent down my flag to the earth before me.
Akoz Li te lage fisèl banza a pou te aflije mwen, yo rete retire brid la nèt devan m.
12 The lines of his men of war put themselves in order, and make high their ways of destruction against me:
Sou men dwat lan, nich sa vin leve. Yo rale pye mwen akote. Yo mennen kont mwen tout manèv destriksyon yo.
13 They have made waste my roads, with a view to my destruction; his bowmen come round about me;
Yo gate wout mwen. Yo bourade lachit mwen san mande sekou.
14 As through a wide broken place in the wall they come on, I am overturned by the shock of their attack.
Tankou nan yon gran brèch, yo parèt; nan mitan tanpèt, yo woule m.
15 Fears have come on me; my hope is gone like the wind, and my well-being like a cloud.
Gwo perèz yo vin vire kont mwen. Yo tanmen gate respè m tankou van. Byennèt mwen disparèt tankou nwaj.
16 But now my soul is turned to water in me, days of trouble overtake me:
Konsa, koulye a nanm mwen vide nèt. Jou afliksyon yo sezi m.
17 The flesh is gone from my bones, and they give me no rest; there is no end to my pains.
Nan lannwit, zo m yo frennen anndan m, e sa yo kap manje m pa pran repo.
18 With great force he takes a grip of my clothing, pulling me by the neck of my coat.
Ak gwo fòs, vètman m vin tòde sou mwen. Li mare m nèt tankou kolye manto m.
19 Truly God has made me low, even to the earth, and I have become like dust.
Li te jete mwen nan labou, e mwen te vin tankou pousyè ak sann.
20 You give no answer to my cry, and take no note of my prayer.
Mwen kriye a Ou menm pou sekou, men Ou pa reponn mwen. Mwen kanpe, e se gete, Ou gete m.
21 You have become cruel to me; the strength of your hand is hard on me.
Ou vin okipe m ak mechanste. Avèk fòs a men Ou, Ou pèsekite m.
22 Lifting me up, you make me go on the wings of the wind; I am broken up by the storm.
Ou leve m wo sou van, e fè m monte; epi Ou fè m fonn nèt nan move tan an.
23 For I am certain that you will send me back to death, and to the meeting-place ordered for all living.
Paske mwen konnen ke Ou ap mennen m a lanmò, jis rive nan gwo kay asanble a ki fèt pou tout sila ki viv yo.
24 Has not my hand been stretched out in help to the poor? have I not been a saviour to him in his trouble?
Malgre, èske yon moun k ap tonbe pa lonje men l? Oswa nan gwo pwoblem li pa kriye sekou?
25 Have I not been weeping for the crushed? and was not my soul sad for him who was in need?
Èske mwen pa t kriye pou sila nan gwo twoub? Èske nanm mwen pa t plen tristès pou malere a?
26 For I was looking for good, and evil came; I was waiting for light, and it became dark.
Lè m t ap tann sa ki bon an, se mal ki rive m; lè m tap tann limyè, alò se tenèb ki te vini.
27 My feelings are strongly moved, and give me no rest; days of trouble have overtaken me.
Kè m twouble nèt anndan m. Mwen pa kab poze. Jou plen ak afliksyon yo parèt devan m.
28 I go about in dark clothing, uncomforted; I get up in the public place, crying out for help.
Mwen fè dèy toupatou san solèy. Mwen kanpe nan asanble; mwen rele sekou.
29 I have become a brother to the jackals, and go about in the company of ostriches.
Mwen te vin frè ak chen mawon, zanmi ak otrich la.
30 My skin is black and dropping off me; and my bones are burning with the heat of my disease.
Chè m vin nwa sou mwen, li kale, e zo m yo brile ak lafyèv.
31 And my music has been turned to sorrow, and the sound of my pipe into the noise of weeping.
Pou sa, se doulè ap mwen jwe, e flit mwen an sonne pou sila k ap kriye.
