Job 30
1 But now, those younger in years scorn me, whose fathers I would not have seen fit to place with the dogs of my flock,
“No rĩu-rĩ, andũ ethĩ kũngĩra nĩmaanyũrũragia, arĩa o na itangĩendire gũturanĩra maithe mao na ngui ciakwa cia rũũru.
2 the strength of whose hands was nothing to me, and they were considered unworthy of life itself.
Hinya wa moko mao ũngĩangʼunire nakĩ, kuona atĩ hinya wao nĩwamehereire?
3 They were barren from poverty and hunger; they gnawed in solitude, layered with misfortune and misery.
Nĩmathĩnĩkĩte nĩ ũndũ wa wagi na ngʼaragu, ũtukũ-rĩ, moorũũraga bũrũri mũngʼaru, bũrũri mwanangĩku ũkirĩte ihooru.
4 And they chewed grass and the bark from trees, and the root of junipers was their food.
Maahaaraga nyeni cia mahuti ma cumbĩ kuuma ihinga-inĩ, na irio ciao ciarĩ mĩri ya mũtĩ wa kĩhaato.
5 They took these things from the steep valleys, and when they discovered one of these things, they rushed to the others with a cry.
Nĩmaingatirwo kuuma kũrĩ mũingĩ, makiugĩrĩrio ta maarĩ aici.
6 They lived in the parched desert and in caves underground or above the rocks.
Nĩmahatĩrĩirio maikarage mĩkuru-inĩ ya tũrũũĩ tũhũu, kũu ndwaro-inĩ cia mahiga na marima-inĩ marĩa marĩ thĩ.
7 They rejoiced among these kinds of things, and they considered it delightful to be under thorns.
Maanagia ta nyamũ kũu ihinga-inĩ, makahatĩkanagĩra kũu mahuti-inĩ.
8 These are the sons of foolish and base men, not even paying any attention to the land.
Rũciaro rũtarĩ kĩene na rũtarĩ rĩĩtwa, nĩ rwarutũrũrirwo ruume kũu bũrũri-inĩ.
9 Now I become their song, and I have been made into their proverb.
“Na rĩu ariũ ao maraanyũrũria na rwĩmbo; ngagĩtuĩka wa kuunagwo thimo nĩo.
10 They loathe me, and so they flee far from me, and they are not reluctant to spit in my face.
Nĩmathũire na magaikaraga haraihu na niĩ; matiĩtigagĩra kũnduĩra mata ũthiũ.
11 For he has opened his quiver and has afflicted me, and he has placed a bridle in my mouth.
Nĩ ũndũ rĩu Ngai nĩaregeretie ũta wakwa, na akandeehera mathĩĩna-rĩ, matirĩ ũndũ merigagĩrĩria gwĩka marĩ harĩa ndĩ.
12 Immediately, upon rising, my calamities rise up to the right. They have overturned my feet and have pressed me down along their way like waves.
Mwena wakwa wa ũrĩo kũrĩ rũrĩrĩ rũratharĩkĩra; maigagĩra magũrũ makwa mĩtego, na magaaka ihumbu ciao cia gũũtharĩkĩra.
13 They have diverted my journeys; they have waited to ambush me, and they have prevailed, and there was no one who might bring help.
Maharaganagia njĩra yakwa; mahotaga kũnyũnũha o na gũtarĩ na mũndũ ũramateithia.
14 They have rushed upon me, as when a wall is broken or a gate opened, and they have been pulled down into my miseries.
Mokĩte ta matoonyeire mwanya-inĩ mwariĩ; mokĩire gatagatĩ ga kũu kwanangĩku, makaamomokera.
15 I have been reduced to nothing. You have taken away my desire like a wind, and my health has passed by like a cloud.
Imakania nĩcihootete; gĩtĩĩo gĩakwa kĩũmbũrĩtwo ta kĩhurutĩtwo nĩ rũhuho, naguo ũgitĩri wakwa ũkabuĩria ta itu.
16 But now my soul withers within myself, and the days of affliction take hold of me.
“Na rĩu muoyo wakwa nĩũrathirĩrĩkĩra; matukũ ma thĩĩna nĩmanyiitĩte.
17 At night, my bone is pierced with sorrows, and those who feed on me, do not sleep.
Ũtukũ ũtheecangaga mahĩndĩ makwa; ruo rwa gũthegenya rũtindigithagĩria.
18 By the sheer number of them my clothing is worn away, and they have closed in on me like the collar of my coat.
Ngai angũnjakũnjaga ta nguo na ũndũ wa ũhoti wake mũnene; aanyiitaga ta kanjũ yakwa ngingo-inĩ.
19 I have been treated like dirt, and I have been turned into embers and ashes.
Anjikĩtie ndoro-inĩ, ngatuĩka ta rũkũngũ na ta mũhu.
20 I cry to you, and you do not heed me. I stand up, and you do not look back at me.
“Nĩwe ndĩrakaĩra, o Wee Ngai, no ndũranjĩtĩka; ndĩrarũgama, no wee no kũndora ũrandora.
21 You have changed me into hardness, and, with the hardness of your hand, you oppose me.
Wee nĩũngarũrũkĩte ũtarĩ na tha; ũtharĩkĩire na hinya wa guoko gwaku.
22 You have lifted me up, and, placing me as if on the wind, you have thrown me down powerfully.
Nĩũũhurĩtie, ũkaandindĩka mbere ya rũhuho; ũũnyugutanĩtie kĩhuhũkanio-inĩ.
23 I know that you will hand me over to death, where a home has been established for all the living.
Nĩnjũũĩ nĩũkanginyia o gĩkuũ-inĩ, ũndware kũrĩa gwathĩrĩirwo arĩa othe marĩ muoyo.
24 Truly, then, you do not extend your hand in order to consume them, and if they fall down, you will save them.
“Ti-itherũ gũtirĩ mũndũ ũũkagĩrĩra mũndũ ũthuthĩkĩte ngoro, hĩndĩ ĩrĩa egũkaya ateithio arĩ mĩnyamaro-inĩ.
25 Once, I wept over him who was afflicted, and my soul had compassion on the poor.
Niĩ-rĩ, githĩ ndianarĩrio nĩ arĩa marĩ na thĩĩna? Githĩ ngoro yakwa ndĩanaiguĩra arĩa athĩĩni kĩeha?
26 I expected good things, but evil things have come to me. I stood ready for light, yet darkness burst forth.
No rĩrĩ, rĩrĩa ndeerĩgagĩrĩra wega, ũũru ũgĩũka; rĩrĩa ndaacaragia ũtheri-rĩ, hĩndĩ ĩyo nduma ĩgĩũka.
27 My insides have seethed, without any rest, for the days of affliction have prevented it.
Nda yakwa ndĩtigaga kũruruma; matukũ ma thĩĩna nĩmanginyĩire.
28 I went forth mourning, without anger, and rising up, I cried out in confusion.
Thiiaga njirĩte biũ, no ti ũndũ wa kũhĩa nĩ riũa; ngarũgama kĩũngano-inĩ ngakaya ndeithio.
29 I was the brother of snakes, and the companion of ostriches.
Nduĩkĩte mũrũ wa nyina na mbwe, ngatuĩka mũthiritũ wa ndundu.
30 My skin has become blackened over me, and my bones have dried up because of the heat.
Gĩkonde gĩakwa nĩkĩgarũrũkĩte, gĩgathita na gĩkoonũka; mwĩrĩ wakwa ũhiũhĩte nĩ ũrugarĩ.
31 My harp has been turned into mourning, and my pipes have been turned into a voice of weeping.
Kĩnanda gĩakwa kĩa mũgeeto kĩrutaga o mũgambo wa gũcakaya, naguo mũtũrirũ wakwa ũkaruta o mũgambo wa kĩrĩro.
