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.

Ko e Hiva ʻae ʻalu hake maʻa Solomone. Kapau ʻe ʻikai langa ʻe Sihova ʻae fale, ʻoku taʻeʻaonga ʻae ngāue ʻanautolu ʻoku nau langa ia: kapau ʻe ʻikai tauhi ʻe Sihova ʻae kolo, ʻoku taʻeʻaonga ʻae ʻā ʻae tangata leʻo.

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.

‌ʻOku taʻeʻaonga hoʻomou tuʻu hake hengihengi pē, mo nofo pē ʻo fuoloa ʻi he pō, ke kai ʻae mā ʻoe mamahi: he ʻoku ne foaki ʻae mohe ki heʻene pele.

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

Vakai, ko e fānau ko e tofiʻa meia Sihova: pea ko e fua ʻoe manāva ko ʻene totongi.

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

Hangē ko e ngaahi ngahau ʻi he nima ʻoe tangata mālohi; ʻoku pehē ʻae fānau ʻae talavou.

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.

‌ʻOku monūʻia ʻae tangata ʻaia ʻoku fonu ʻene hōfangahau ʻiate kinautolu: ʻe ʻikai tenau mā, ka tenau lea ki he ngaahi fili ʻi he matapā.