Psalms 127

1 A song for pilgrims going up to Jerusalem. A psalm of Solomon. If the Lord doesn't build the house, the work of the builders is futile. If the Lord doesn't guard the city, the work of the guards is pointless.

Hina Gode da diasu hame gagui ganiaba, diasu gagui dunu ilia hawa: hamomu da hamedela: loba. Hina Gode da moilai bai bagade hame gaga: i ganiaba, sosodo aligisu dunu da udigili sosodo aligila: loba.

2 It's useless to get up early in the morning and go to work, and stay late into the evening, worrying about earning enough to eat, when the Lord gives rest to those he loves.

Abuliba: le hahabedafa wa: legadole, bagadewane hawa: hamonana gasimogoa fawane bu golama: bela: ? Bai Hina Gode Ea dogolegei fi dunu ilia da golai dialeawane, E da ilia ha: i manu amola labe liligi huluane ilima iaha.

3 Children certainly are a gift from the Lord, for a family is a blessing.

Mano ilia da Hina Gode Ea hahawane dogolegele iasu liligi. E da nini hahawane ba: ma: ne, mano ninima iaha.

4 Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children of a young man.

Nowa da ayeligiawane, dunu mano lalelegesea, amo dunu mano da dadi gagui dunuga ea dadi hodo gagui agoai ba: sa.

5 Happy is the father who fills his quiver with them! Such fathers will not be embarrassed when they confront their enemies at the city gate.

Nowa da amo dadi hodo bagohame gagusia, e da hahawane bagade gala. E da ea ha lai dunu amo fofada: su diasuga fofada: sea, ilia da ema hamedafa hasalasimu.