< Habakkuk 3 >

1 This is a prayer sung by the prophet Habakkuk. On Shigonoth.
Nke a bụ ekpere Habakuk onye amụma kpere. Ọ dị nʼusoro Shiginot. Nke a bụ ihe o kwuru.
2 I have heard what is said about you, Lord. I stand in awe of your work. Lord, revive it in our times; make it known in our times. In your anger, please remember your mercy.
Onyenwe anyị anụla m ihe niile e kwuru banyere ude gị. Ịdị ukwuu nke ọrụ gị niile na-emekwa ka m dere duu nʼegwu nʼihu gị, Onyenwe anyị. Mekwaa ya ọzọ nʼoge nke anyị, mekwaa ka anụ akụkọ ya nʼọgbọ anyị. Nʼoke iwe gị chetakwa ebere.
3 God came from Teman; the Holy One from Mount Paran. (Selah) His glory covered the heavens; the earth was full of his praise.
Chineke si na Teman bịa, Onye Nsọ ahụ sikwa nʼugwu Paran. (Sela) Ebube ya na-ekpuchi eluigwe, otuto ya jupụtakwara nʼụwa.
4 His brightness is like lightning; rays flash from his hand from where his power is hidden.
Ịma mma ya na-achapụta dịka ihe anyanwụ ụtụtụ, ihe na-enwupụta site nʼaka ya, ọ bụkwa nʼebe ahụ ka e zoro ike ya.
5 Plague goes before him, disease follows at his feet.
Nʼihu ya ka ajọ ọrịa na-efe efe na-aga, oke mbibi na-esokwa ya nʼazụ.
6 Where he stands, the earth shakes. When he looks the nations tremble. The ancient mountains shatter, the age-old hills collapse, but his ways are eternal.
O guzoro ọtọ yọgharịa ụwa; o lere anya, mee ka mba niile maa jijiji. Ugwu ukwu ochie ahụ niile dara, ugwu nta ochie ndị ahụ dakwara. Nʼihi na ụzọ ya ga-adịgide ruo mgbe niile ebighị ebi.
7 I saw the tents of Cushan suffering, the tent curtains of the land of Midian tremble.
Ahụrụ m ụlọ ikwu nke Kushan ka ha nọ ọnọdụ ụbọchị ọjọọ, na ebe obibi ndị Midia ka ha nọ na oke ahụ ụfụ.
8 Did you burn with rage against the rivers, Lord? Were you angry with the rivers? Were you furious with the sea when you rode your horses and chariots of salvation?
Ọ bụ osimiri, ka gị bụ Onyenwe anyị were iwe megide? Ọnụma gị, ọ dị ukwuu megide iyi niile? Oke iwe gị ọ bụ megide oke osimiri mgbe ị nọkwasịrị nʼelu ịnyịnya gị, nakwa nʼelu ụgbọ ịnyịnya ị wetara ndị nke gị mmeri?
9 You took out your bow; you filled your quiver with arrows. (Selah) You split the earth open with rivers.
I kpughepụrụ ụta gị, kpọọ oku ka a chịtara gị ọtụtụ àkụ. (Sela) I ji osimiri dị iche iche kewaa ụwa.
10 Mountains saw you and shook. Water poured down and swept by. The deep called out, lifting high its waves.
Mgbe ugwu niile hụrụ gị ha nyagharịrị onwe ha nʼihi ihe mgbu bịakwasịrị ha. Oke mmiri ozuzo gabigakwara. Ogbu mmiri mere ka olu ya daa ụda, buliekwa ebili mmiri elu.
11 The sun and moon stood still in the sky as your sparkling arrows flew and your spears flashed bright.
Anyanwụ na ọnwa guzokwara duu na mbara eluigwe, mgbe ha hụrụ ihe nke àkụ gị, mgbe ha hụrụ amụma nke ùbe gị gburu.
12 Indignant, you marched across the earth, trampling the nations in your anger.
I sitere nʼọnụma gị zọgharịa ije nʼụwa, sitekwa nʼiwe gị zọchaa mba dị iche iche dịka ọka.
13 You came out to save your people, to save your chosen people. You crushed the head of the house of the wicked, stripping him from thick to neck.
Ị pụtara ịzọpụta ndị gị, ịzọpụta onye ahụ i tere mmanụ. Ị zọpịara isi onyendu nke ala ajọ omume ahụ, gbawa ya ọtọ site nʼisi ruo nʼụkwụ.
14 With his own arrows you pierced the heads of his warriors, those who came like a whirlwind to scatter me, gloating like those who secretly abuse the poor.
Ọ bụ ùbe ya ka i ji mawaa ya isi, mgbe ndị dike nʼagha ya bịara dịka oke ifufe ịchụsa anyị, mgbe ha si nʼobi ụtọ ha chee na ha na-aga iripịa ndị ogbenye e wedara nʼala, bụ ndị na-ezo onwe ha.
15 You trod upon the sea with your horses, churning up the mighty waters.
Ị chịrịla ịnyịnya gị zọọ ije nʼoke osimiri, kpagharịa mmiri ukwu ndị ahụ.
16 I shook inside when I heard this; my lips quivered at the sound; my bones turned to jelly; I trembled where I stood. I wait quietly for the day of trouble that will come upon those who attacked us.
Amara m jijiji nʼobi m mgbe m nụrụ ihe ndị a niile, egbugbere ọnụ m abụọ kụkọtara nʼegwu, ọkpụkpụ dị m nʼahụ malitere ire ure, mee ka ụkwụ m maa jijiji. Ma aga m eji ndidi chere ụbọchị ọjọọ ahụ nke ga-abịakwasị ndị ahụ na-abịa ibuso anyị agha.
17 Even though there are no blossoms on the fig trees and there are no grapes on the vines; even though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no harvest; even though there are no animals in the pen and no cattle in the stalls;
A sịkwarị na osisi fiig amaghị ifuru, na ọ dịghị mkpụrụ dị nʼosisi vaịnị, a sịkwa na mkpụrụ osisi oliv ebilata na ala ubi niile emepụtaghị ihe oriri, a sịkwa na ọ dịghị atụrụ dị nʼọgba anụ, na ọ dịkwaghị ehi nọ nʼụlọ anụmanụ,
18 still I will be happy in the Lord, joyful in the God of my salvation.
mụ onwe m ga-anọgide na-aṅụrị ọṅụ nʼime Onyenwe anyị. Aga m etegharịkwa egwu ọṅụ nʼime Chineke Onye nzọpụta m.
19 The Lord God is my strength. He makes me able to walk in the highest mountains, as sure-footed as a deer. (To the music director: with my stringed instruments.)
Onye kachasị ihe niile elu, bụ Onyenwe anyị bụ ike m, ọ na-eme ụkwụ m abụọ ka ha dịka nke ele. Ọ na-emekwa ka m zọọ ije nʼebe niile dị elu.

< Habakkuk 3 >