Job 7
1 The life of a man on the earth is a battle, and his days are like the days of a hired hand.
“Asase so som nyɛ den mma onipa anaa? Ne nkwa nna nte sɛ ɔpaani deɛ?
2 Just as a servant desires the shade, and just as the hired hand looks forward to the end of his work,
Sɛdeɛ akoa ani gyina anwummerɛ sunsumma, anaasɛ ɔpaani ho pere no nʼakatua ho no,
3 so also have I had empty months and have counted my burdensome nights.
saa ara na wɔatwa abosome hunu ato me hɔ, ne anadwo a ɔhaw wɔ mu ama me.
4 If I lie down to sleep, I will say, “When will I rise?” And next I will hope for the evening and will be filled with sorrows even until darkness.
Sɛ meda a, medwene bisa sɛ, ‘Ɛberɛ bɛn na adeɛ bɛkye?’ Nanso anadwo twam nkakrankakra, na mepere kɔsi ahemadakye.
5 My flesh is clothed with particles of rottenness and filth; my skin is dried up and tightened.
Asonsono ne aporɔporɔ ahyɛ me honam ma, me honam asɛe na ɛrefiri nsuo.
6 My days have passed by more quickly than threads are cut by a weaver, and they have been consumed without any hope.
“Me nna kɔ ntɛm sene ɔnwomfoɔ akurokurowa, na ɛkɔ awieeɛ a anidasoɔ biara nni muo.
7 Remember that my life is wind, and my eye will not return to see good things.
Ao Onyankopɔn, kae sɛ me nkwanna te sɛ ahomeɛ; na merennya anigyeɛ bio da.
8 Neither will the sight of man gaze upon me; your eyes are upon me, and I will not endure.
Ani a ɛhunu me seesei renhunu me bio; mobɛhwehwɛ me, nanso na menni hɔ bio.
9 Just as a cloud is consumed and passes away, so he who descends to hell will not ascend. (Sheol h7585)
Sɛdeɛ omununkum yera na ɛtu korɔ no, saa ara na deɛ ɔkɔ damena mu no nsane mma bio. (Sheol h7585)
10 He will not return again to his house, nor will his own place know him any longer.
Ɔrensane mma ne fie da biara da; nʼatenaeɛ renkae no bio.
11 And because of this, I will not restrain my mouth. I will speak in the affliction of my spirit. I will converse from the bitterness of my soul.
“Ɛno enti meremmua mʼano; mɛfiri me honhom ahoyera mu akasa, mɛfiri me kra ɔyea mu anwiinwii.
12 Am I an ocean or a whale, that you have encircled me in a prison?
Meyɛ ɛpo anaa aboa kɛseɛ a ɔwɔ ebunu mu anaa, na mode me ahyɛ ɔwɛmfoɔ nsa yi?
13 If I say, “My bed will comfort me, and I will find rest, speaking with myself on my blanket,”
Sɛ medwene sɛ menya awerɛkyekyerɛ wɔ me mpa so, na mʼakonwa adwodwo mʼanwiinwii ano a,
14 then you will frighten me with dreams, and strike dread through visions,
ɛno mpo na wode adaeɛso yi me hu na wode anisoadehunu hunahuna me,
15 so that, because of these things, my soul would choose hanging, and my bones, death.
ɛno enti mepɛ akɔmfohyɛ ne owuo, sene me onipadua yi.
16 I despair; by no means will I live any longer. Spare me, for my days are nothing.
Memmu me nkwa; mentena ase afebɔɔ. Monnyaa me; na me nna nka hwee.
17 What is man, that you should praise him? Or why do you place your heart near him?
“Ɔdasani ne hwan a ne ho hia wo sei, na wʼani ku ne ho,
18 You visit him at dawn, and you test him unexpectedly.
na wohwehwɛ ne mu anɔpa biara na wosɔ no hwɛ ɛberɛ biara?
19 How long will you not spare me, nor release me to ingest my saliva?
Worenyi wʼani mfiri me so da, anaasɛ worennyaa me ɛberɛ tiawa bi mpo anaa?
20 I have sinned; what should I do for you, O keeper of men? Why have you set me against you, so that I have become burdensome even to myself?
Sɛ mayɛ bɔne a, ɛdeɛn na mayɛ woɔ, Ao adasamma so wɛmfoɔ? Adɛn enti na watu wʼani asi me soɔ? Mayɛ adesoa ama wo anaa?
21 Why do you not steal away my sin, and why do you not sweep away my iniquity? Behold, now I will sleep in the dust, and if you seek me in the morning, I will not remain.
Adɛn enti na wonkata me mmarato so na womfa me bɔne nkyɛ me? Ɛrenkyɛre biara, mɛda mfuturo mu. Wobɛhwehwɛ me nanso na menni hɔ bio.”
