Job 27
1 And Job adds to lift up his allegory and says:
Ma Job gakwara nʼihu nʼokwu ya sị:
2 “God lives! He turned aside my judgment, And the Mighty—He made my soul bitter.
“Nʼezie, dịka Chineke na-adị ndụ, onye jụrụ ikpere m ikpe ziri ezi, Onye pụrụ ime ihe niile, onye mere ka m hụ ihe ilu nke mkpụrụobi.
3 For all the while my breath [is] in me, And the wind of God in my nostrils.
Ogologo mgbe m nwere ndụ nʼime m, mgbe iku ume Chineke dịkwa nʼimi m,
4 My lips do not speak perverseness, And my tongue does not utter deceit.
egbugbere ọnụ m agaghị ekwu ihe ọjọọ, ire m agakwaghị ekwu okwu aghụghọ.
5 Defilement to me—if I justify you, Until I expire I do not turn aside my integrity from me.
Agaghị m ekwenye na ihe unu kwuru ziri ezi; ruo mgbe m ga-anwụ, agaghị m agọnarị izuoke m.
6 On my righteousness I have laid hold, And I do not let it go, My heart does not reproach me while I live.
Aga m ejigidesi ezi omume m aka ike, agaghị m ahapụ ya; o nwekwaghị mgbe obi m ga-ata m ụta ogologo ụbọchị niile nke ndụ m.
7 My enemy is as the wicked, And my withstander as the perverse.
“Ka ndị iro m dịrị ka ndị ajọ omume, ka ndị na-ebili imegide m dịrị ka ndị na-emebi iwu.
8 For what [is] the hope of the profane, When He cuts off? When God casts off his soul?
Nʼihi nke a, gịnị bụ olileanya onye na-amaghị Chineke nwere mgbe e bipụrụ ya, mgbe Chineke wepụrụ ndụ ya?
9 [Does] God hear his cry, When distress comes on him?
Chineke ọ na-anụ ịkwa akwa ya mgbe nsogbu dakwasịrị ya?
10 Does he delight himself on the Mighty? Call God at all times?
Ọ ga-achọta ihe ụtọ nʼime Onye pụrụ ime ihe niile? Ọ ga-akpọku Chineke mgbe niile?
11 I show you by the hand of God, That which [is] with the Mighty I do not hide.
“Aga m akụziri unu maka ike nke Chineke; agaghị m ezo ihe banyere ụzọ Onye pụrụ ime ihe niile.
12 Behold, you—all of you—have seen, And why [is] this—you are altogether vain?
Unu onwe unu ahụla ihe ndị a, gịnị mere unu ji ekwu okwu ndị a na-enweghị isi?
13 This [is] the portion of wicked man with God, And the inheritance of terrible ones They receive from the Mighty.
“Nke a bụ oke Chineke na-ekenye ndị ajọ omume, nke a bụkwa ihe nketa nke onye ahụ na-adịghị eme ebere na-anata site nʼaka Onye pụrụ ime ihe niile.
14 If his sons multiply—a sword [is] for them. And his offspring [are] not satisfied [with] bread.
Nʼagbanyeghị ọnụọgụgụ ụmụ ya, oke ha bụ mma agha; ụmụ ya agaghị enwe ihe oriri ga-ezuru ha.
15 His remnant are buried in death, And his widows do not weep.
Ọrịa na-efe efe ga-egbu ndị ya fọrọ ndụ; ọzọ, ụmụ nwanyị ha hapụrụ nwụọ agaghị akwa akwa nʼihi ha.
16 If he heaps up silver as dust, And prepares clothing as clay,
Ọ bụrụ na ọ kpakọta ọlaọcha dịka uzuzu, ma tụkọtakwa uwe dịka aja ụrọ,
17 He prepares—and the righteous puts [it] on, And the innocent apportions the silver.
ihe ndị ọ kpakọtara bụ onye ezi omume ga-eyi ha, ndị aka ha dị ọcha ga-ekekwa ọlaọcha ya.
18 He has built his house as a moth, And as a shelter a watchman has made.
Ụlọ o wuru dị ka ụlọ nla, dịkwa ka ụlọ ntu nke onye nche wuru.
19 He lies down rich, and he is not gathered, He has opened his eyes, and he is not.
Ọ na-edina ala dịka ọgaranya ma ọ gaghị edinakwa dịka ọgaranya ọzọ; mgbe ọ saghere anya ya abụọ, ihe niile efuola.
20 Terrors overtake him as waters, By night a whirlwind has stolen him away.
Oke egwu na-adakwasị ya dịka idee mmiri; oke ebili mmiri na-ebufu ya nʼabalị.
21 An east wind takes him up, and he goes, And it frightens him from his place,
Ifufe si nʼọwụwa anyanwụ na-ebufu ya, agaghị ahụkwa ya anya ọzọ; ọ na-azachapụ ya site nʼọnọdụ ya.
22 And it casts at him, and does not spare, He diligently flees from its hand.
Ọ na-atụfu ya na-enweghị ebere mgbe ọ na-eme ngwangwa ịgbapụ site nʼike ya.
23 It claps its hands at him, And it hisses at him from his place.”
Ọ na-akụkọta aka ya nʼịkwa emo, were ịma ọsụ wezuga ya nʼọnọdụ ya.”
