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.

Sabo-Pionjoña’ i Selomò Naho tsy Iehovà ty mandranjy ty anjomba, tsy manjofake ty itromaha’ o mpandrafitseo. Naho tsy Iehovà ty mañambeñe i rovay, tsy vente’e ty hijilova’ o mpigaritseo.

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.

Tsy vara te mañaleñaleñe naho hifonen-droro te haleñe, hikama ty mofom-pitoloñañe; amy te atolo’e rotse o kokoa’eo.

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

Toe lova boak’am’ Iehovà o ajajao, ty toli-troke ro tambe.

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

Hoe ana-pale am-pitàm-panalolahy o amorin-katora’eo

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.

Haha t’indaty naho atsak’ irezay i trañon’ana-pale’ey; tsy ho salatse t’ie mifanaontsy amo rafelahi’eo an-dalam-bey ey.