Job 17
1 My spirit is crushed; my life is extinguished; the grave is ready for me.
Omutima gwange gwennyise, ennaku zange zisalibbwaako, entaana enninze.
2 Mockers surround me. I see how bitterly they ridicule me.
Ddala abansekerera bannetoolodde; amaaso gange gabeekengera.
3 God, you need to put down a pledge for me with yourself, for who else will be my guarantor?
“Ompe, Ayi Katonda akakalu k’onsaba. Ani omulala ayinza okunneeyimirira?
4 You have closed their minds to understanding, so do not let them win!
Ozibye emitima gyabwe obutategeera; noolwekyo toobakkirize kuwangula.
5 They betray friends to gain benefit for themselves and their children suffer for it.
Omusajja avumirira mikwano gye olw’empeera alireetera amaaso g’abaana be okuziba.
6 He has made me a proverb of ridicule among the people; they spit in my face.
“Katonda anfudde ekisekererwa eri buli omu, anfudde buli omu gw’afujjira amalusu mu maaso.
7 My eyes are worn out from crying and my body is a shadow of its former self.
Amaaso gange gayimbadde olw’okunakuwala; omubiri gwange gwonna kaakano guli nga kisiikirize.
8 People who think they are good are shocked to see me. Those who are innocent are troubled by the godless.
Abantu ab’amazima beesisiwala olwa kino; atalina musango agolokokedde ku oyo atatya Katonda.
9 Those who are right keep going, and those whose hands are clean grow stronger and stronger.
Naye era abatuukirivu banaakwatanga amakubo gaabwe, n’abo ab’emikono emirongoofu baneeyongeranga amaanyi.
10 Why don't you come back and repeat again what you've been saying?—yet I still won't find a wise man among you!
“Naye mukomeewo mwenna kaakano, mujje, naye siraba muntu mugezi mu mmwe!
11 My life is over. My plans are gone. My heart is broken.
Ennaku zange ziyise entegeka zange zoonoonese, era bwe kityo n’okwegomba kw’omutima gwange.
12 They turn night into day, and say that daylight is close to darkness.
Abantu bano ekiro bakifuula emisana; mu kizikiza mwennyini mwe bagambira nti, Ekitangaala kinaatera okujja.
Amagombe bwe gaba nga ge maka mwe nnina essuubi, bwe njala obuliri bwange mu kizikiza, (Sheol h7585)
14 Should I call the grave my father, and the maggot my mother or my sister?
ne ŋŋamba amagombe nti, ‘Ggwe kitange,’ era n’eri envunyu nti, ‘Ggwe mmange,’ oba nti, ‘Ggwe mwannyinaze,’
15 So then where is my hope? Can anyone see any hope for me?
kale essuubi lyange liba ludda wa? Ani ayinza okuliraba?
