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.
“Ṣé ìjà kò ha si fún ènìyàn lórí ilẹ̀? Ọjọ́ rẹ̀ pẹ̀lú kò ha dàbí ọjọ́ alágbàṣe?
2 Just as a servant desires the shade, and just as the hired hand looks forward to the end of his work,
Bí ọmọ ọ̀dọ̀ tí máa ń kánjú bojú wo òjìji, àti bí alágbàṣe ti í kánjú wo ọ̀nà owó iṣẹ́ rẹ̀.
3 so also have I had empty months and have counted my burdensome nights.
Bẹ́ẹ̀ ni a mú mi ní ìbànújẹ́ ní ọ̀pọ̀lọpọ̀ oṣù, òru ìdáni-lágara ni a sì là sílẹ̀ fún mi.
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.
Nígbà ti mo dùbúlẹ̀, èmi wí pé, ‘Nígbà wo ni èmi ó dìde?’ Tí òru yóò sì kọjá, ó sì tó fún mi láti yí síyìn-ín yí sọ́hùn-ún, títí yóò fi di àfẹ̀mọ́júmọ́.
5 My flesh is clothed with particles of rottenness and filth; my skin is dried up and tightened.
Kòkòrò àti ògúlùtu erùpẹ̀ ni á fi wọ̀ mi ni aṣọ, awọ ara mi bù, o sì di bíbàjẹ́.
6 My days have passed by more quickly than threads are cut by a weaver, and they have been consumed without any hope.
“Ọjọ́ mi yára jù ọkọ̀ ìhunṣọ lọ, o sì di lílò ní àìní ìrètí.
7 Remember that my life is wind, and my eye will not return to see good things.
Háà! Rántí pé afẹ́fẹ́ ni ẹ̀mí mi; ojú mi kì yóò padà rí rere mọ́.
8 Neither will the sight of man gaze upon me; your eyes are upon me, and I will not endure.
Ojú ẹni tí ó rí mi, kì yóò rí mi mọ́; ojú rẹ̀ tẹ̀ mọ́ra mi, èmi kò sí mọ́.
9 Just as a cloud is consumed and passes away, so he who descends to hell will not ascend. (Sheol h7585)
Bí ìkùùkuu tí i túká, tí í sì fò lọ, bẹ́ẹ̀ ni ẹni tí ń lọ sí ipò òkú tí kì yóò padà wa mọ́. (Sheol h7585)
10 He will not return again to his house, nor will his own place know him any longer.
Kì yóò padà sínú ilé rẹ̀ mọ́, bẹ́ẹ̀ ní ipò rẹ̀ kì yóò mọ̀ ọn mọ́.
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.
“Nítorí náà èmi kì yóò pa ẹnu mi mọ́, èmi yóò máa sọ nínú ìrora ọkàn mi, èmi yóò máa ṣe ìráhùn nínú kíkorò ọkàn mi.
12 Am I an ocean or a whale, that you have encircled me in a prison?
Èmi a máa ṣe Òkun tàbí ẹ̀mí búburú, tí ìwọ fi ń yan olùṣọ́ tì mi?
13 If I say, “My bed will comfort me, and I will find rest, speaking with myself on my blanket,”
Nígbà tí mo wí pé, ibùsùn mi yóò tù mí lára, ìtẹ́ mi yóò mú ara mi fúyẹ́ pẹ̀lú.
14 then you will frighten me with dreams, and strike dread through visions,
Nígbà náà ni ìwọ fi àlá da yọ mi lénu bò mi, ìwọ sì fi ìran òru dẹ́rùbà mí.
15 so that, because of these things, my soul would choose hanging, and my bones, death.
Bẹ́ẹ̀ ni ọkàn mí yàn láti fún pa àti ikú ju kí ń wà láààyè ní ipò tí ara mí wà yìí lọ.
16 I despair; by no means will I live any longer. Spare me, for my days are nothing.
O sú mi, èmi kò le wà títí: jọ̀wọ́ mi jẹ́, nítorí pé asán ni ọjọ́ mi.
17 What is man, that you should praise him? Or why do you place your heart near him?
“Kí ni ènìyàn tí ìwọ o máa kókìkí rẹ̀? Àti tí ìwọ ìbá fi gbé ọkàn rẹ lé e?
18 You visit him at dawn, and you test him unexpectedly.
Àti ti ìwọ ó fi máa wá í bẹ̀ ẹ́ wò ni òròòwúrọ̀, ti ìwọ o sì máa dán an wò nígbàkígbà!
19 How long will you not spare me, nor release me to ingest my saliva?
Yóò ti pẹ́ tó kí ìwọ kí ó tó fi mí sílẹ̀ lọ, tí ìwọ o fi mí sílẹ̀ jẹ́ẹ́ títí èmi yóò fi lè dá itọ́ mi mì.
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?
Èmi ti ṣẹ̀, ki ní èmi ó ṣe sí ọ. Ìwọ Olùsójú ènìyàn? Èéṣe tí ìwọ fi fi mí ṣe àmì itasi níwájú rẹ, bẹ́ẹ̀ ni èmi sì di ẹrẹ̀ wíwo fún ọ?
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.
Èéṣe tí ìwọ kò sì dárí ìrékọjá mi jìn, kí ìwọ kí ó sì mú àìṣedéédéé mi kúrò? Ǹjẹ́ nísinsin yìí ni èmi ìbá sùn nínú erùpẹ̀, ìwọ ìbá sì wá mi kiri ní òwúrọ̀, èmi kì bá tí sí.”
