Jeremiah 20
1 Pashhur, son of Immer, was a priest and the official in charge of the Lord's Temple. When he heard Jeremiah prophesying these things,
Ɛberɛ a Imer a ɔyɛ Awurade asɔredan mu adwumayɛfoɔ so panin babarima ɔsɔfoɔ Pashur tee sɛ Yeremia rehyɛ nkɔm fa saa nneɛma yi ho no,
2 he beat Jeremiah the prophet and had him put in the stocks at the Upper Benjamin Gate, near to the Lord's Temple.
ɔmaa wɔboroo Yeremia, na wɔbɔɔ no dua mu wɔ Benyamin Atifi Ɛpono a ɛwɔ Awurade asɔredan no mu hɔ.
3 The following day, when Pashhur had Jeremiah released from the stocks, Jeremiah told him, “The Lord doesn't call you Pashhur (tear in pieces), but Magor-missabib (terror is everywhere).
Adeɛ kyeeɛ a, Pashur sanee no no, Yeremia ka kyerɛɛ no sɛ, “Awurade din a ɔde ama wo no nyɛ Pashur na mmom Magormisabib.
4 For this is what the Lord says: I'm going to make you terrified—you and all those you love. Enemies will kill them as you watch. I will hand Judah over to the king of Babylon. He will kill some, and the rest he will take away into exile in Babylon.
Na sei na Awurade seɛ: ‘Mɛma wo ho ayɛ hu ama wʼankasa ne wo nnamfonom nyinaa, wʼankasa de wʼani bɛhunu sɛ wɔtotɔ wɔ wɔn atamfoɔ akofena ano. Mede Yuda nyinaa bɛma Babiloniahene na wasoa wɔn akɔ Babilonia anaasɛ ɔde akofena bɛkunkum wɔn.
5 I'm going to give it all away. All the wealth of this city, all the results of hard work, all the valuables, all the crown jewels of Judah's kings—I'm going to hand it over to their enemies, who will take it as plunder and carry it off to Babylon.
Mede kuropɔn yi ahodeɛ nyinaa bɛma wɔn atamfoɔ; nʼadwumayɛ so aba, ne nneɛma a ɛsom bo ne Yuda ahemfo akoradeɛ nyinaa. Wɔbɛfa no sɛ afodeɛ akɔ Babilonia.
6 You, Pashhur, and everyone who lives with you, will go into captivity. You will go to Babylon. You will die there and be buried—you and all those you love, those to whom you prophesied lies.”
Na wo Pashur, ne wo fiefoɔ nyinaa bɛkɔ nnommumfa mu wɔ Babilonia. Ɛhɔ na wo ne wo nnamfonom a wohyɛɛ wɔn nkɔmtorɔ no nyinaa bɛwuwu na wɔasie mo.’”
7 You fooled me, Lord, and I let myself be fooled! You're stronger than me—you've won! I've become a joke people laugh at all day long. Everyone is mocking me.
Ao, Awurade, woadaadaa me; na mapene so ama woadaadaa. Wɔtwee me da mu nyinaa; na obiara sere me.
8 This is because every time I open my mouth I have to shout out warnings of violence and destruction. The Lord's message has become the reason people criticize and ridicule me the whole time.
Ɛberɛ biara a mɛkasa no, meteam pae mu ka akakabensɛm ne ɔsɛeɛ. Enti Awurade asɛm de ahohora ne nsopa abrɛ me da mu nyinaa.
9 If I tell myself, “I won't talk about him anymore, I won't even mention his name,” then his message is like a fire trapped within me, burning me from the inside out. I'm getting tired of holding it in. I just can't win.
Sɛ meka sɛ, “Meremmɔ ne din anaa merenkasa wɔ ne din mu” a, nʼasɛm te sɛ ogya wɔ mʼakoma mu, ogya a wɔde ahyɛ me nnompe mu. Mede ahyɛ me mu abrɛ nokorɛm, merentumi.
10 I've heard many people gossiping: “He's the one who says, ‘terror is everywhere!’ He has to be reported! Report what he's doing!” All my good friends are waiting for me to slip up. “Maybe he'll make a mistake so we can defeat him and get our revenge on him,” they say.
Mete asomusɛm bebree sɛ, “Ehu wɔ baabiara! Montoa no! Momma yɛnkɔtoa no!” Me nnamfonom nyinaa retwɛn sɛ mɛwatiri, na wɔka sɛ, “Ebia wɔbɛdaadaa no; na yɛatumi atɔ ne so were.”
11 But the Lord stands beside me like a powerful warrior. So those who are attacking me will fall. They won't win! Because they're not successful they will be totally disgraced. Their shame won't ever be forgotten.
Nanso, Awurade ka me ho sɛ dɔmmarima; enti mʼataafoɔ bɛsuntisunti na wɔrentumi nnyina. Wɔbɛdi nkoguo na wɔn anim bɛgu ase pasaa; wɔn werɛ remfiri wɔn nsopa no da.
12 Lord Almighty, you know without question who is living right. You examine people's thoughts and feelings. So let me see your punishment fall on them, because I've trusted you to judge my case.
Ao, Asafo Awurade! Wo a wɔsɔ ɔteneneeni hwɛ na wopɛɛpɛɛ akoma ne adwene mu, ma menhunu wʼaweretɔ wɔ wɔn so, ɛfiri sɛ mede mʼasɛm dane wo.
13 Sing to the Lord! Praise the Lord! For he saves the poor from the power of the wicked.
Monto dwom mma Awurade! Monyi Awurade ayɛ! Ɔgye ohiani nkwa firi amumuyɛfoɔ nsam.
14 May the day I was born be cursed! May the day my mother gave birth to me never be blessed!
Nnome nka da a wɔwoo me! Nhyira mpare ɛda a me maame woo me.
15 May the man be cursed who brought my father the news that made him really happy, saying, “You have a son.”
Nnome nka onipa a ɔbɛbɔɔ mʼagya kaseɛ, deɛ ɔmaa nʼani gyeeɛ, na ɔkaa sɛ, “Wɔawo ɔbabarima ama wo!”
16 May that man be like the towns that the Lord destroyed without mercy. May he hear shouts of alarm in the morning and war-cries at noon,
Ma saa onipa no nyɛ sɛ nkuro a Awurade tuguiɛ a wannya ahummɔborɔ no. Ma ɔnte osu anɔpa, ne ɔko owigyinaeɛ.
17 because he should have killed me in the womb so that my mother would have been my grave, remaining pregnant forever.
Ɛfiri sɛ, wankum me wɔ awotwaa mu amma me maame anyɛ damena amma me.
18 Why was I born only to see trouble and sadness, and to end my life in shame?
Adɛn koraa na mefirii awotwaa mu pueɛ bɛhunuu ɔhaw ne awerɛhoɔ na mede aniwuo rebɛwie me nkwa nna yi?
