Job 27
1 Job again took up his parable, and said,
Nake Ayubu agĩthiĩ na mbere na mĩario yake, akiuga atĩrĩ:
2 "As God lives, who has taken away my right, Shaddai, who has made my soul bitter.
“Ti-itherũ o ta ũrĩa Mũrungu atũũraga muoyo, o we ũnyimĩte kĩhooto, ũcio Mwene-Hinya-Wothe, ũrĩa ũtũmĩte ngĩe na ũrũrũ ngoro-inĩ-rĩ,
3 (For the length of my life is still in me, and the spirit of God is in my nostrils);
hĩndĩ ĩrĩa yothe niĩ ngũtũũra muoyo, nayo mĩhũmũ ya Ngai ĩrĩ maniũrũ-inĩ makwa,
4 surely my lips shall not speak unrighteousness, neither shall my tongue utter deceit.
mĩromo yakwa ndĩkaaria maũndũ ma waganu, na rũrĩmĩ rwakwa rũtikaaria maheeni.
5 Far be it from me that I should justify you. Until I die I will not put away my integrity from me.
Niĩ ndigetĩkĩra atĩ nĩ inyuĩ mũrĩ na kĩhooto; nginya rĩrĩa ngaakua, ndigakaana ũkindĩrĩku wakwa.
6 I hold fast to my righteousness, and will not let it go. My conscience will not accuse me as long as I live.
Nĩngũtũũria ũthingu wakwa na ndikaũrekia; thamiri yakwa ndĩkanjiirithia rĩrĩa rĩothe ngũtũũra muoyo.
7 "Let my enemy be as the wicked. Let him who rises up against me be as the unrighteous.
“Thũ ciakwa irogĩtuĩka ta arĩa aaganu, arĩa marĩ muku na niĩ marotuĩka ta arĩa matarĩ kĩhooto!
8 For what is the hope of the godless, when he is cut off, when God takes away his life?
Tondũ-rĩ, kĩĩrĩgĩrĩro kĩa ũrĩa ũtarĩ mwĩtigĩri Ngai gĩkĩrĩ kĩrĩkũ akua, hĩndĩ ĩrĩa Ngai ooya muoyo wake?
9 Will God hear his cry when trouble comes on him?
Mũrungu nĩakĩiguaga gũkaya gwake rĩrĩa akorwo nĩ mĩnyamaro?
10 Will he delight himself in Shaddai, and call on God at all times?
Nĩakenagĩra ũcio Mwene-Hinya-Wothe? Nĩakayagĩra Ngai mahinda mothe?
11 I will teach you about the hand of God. That which is with Shaddai will I not conceal.
“Nĩngũmũruta ũhoro wĩgiĩ ũhoti wa Mũrungu; ndikũhitha njĩra cia Mwene-Hinya-Wothe.
12 Look, all of you have seen it yourselves; why then have you become altogether vain?
Inyuothe nĩmwĩoneire maũndũ macio. Ĩkĩrĩ yakĩ mĩario ĩno ĩtarĩ kĩene?
13 "This is the portion of a wicked man with God, the heritage of oppressors, which they receive from Shaddai.
“Ũũ nĩguo Mũrungu aathagĩrĩria arĩa aaganu, na nĩrĩo igai rĩrĩa mũndũ ũrĩa ũtarĩ tha aamũkagĩra kuuma kũrĩ Mwene-Hinya-Wothe:
14 If his children are multiplied, it is for the sword. His offspring shall not be satisfied with bread.
O na ciana ciake ciaingĩha atĩa, ciathĩrĩirio rũhiũ rwa njora; rũciaro rwake rũtikoona irio cia kũrũigana.
15 Those who remain of him shall be buried in death. His widows shall make no lamentation.
Mũthiro nĩguo ũkaaninũkia arĩa agaatiga thuutha wake, na atumia ao a ndigwa matikamarĩrĩra.
16 Though he heap up silver as the dust, and prepare clothing as the clay;
O na angĩonganĩrĩria betha ta rũkũngũ, na agĩe na nguo nyingĩ ta hĩba cia rĩũmba,
17 he may prepare it, but the just shall put it on, and the innocent shall divide the silver.
kĩrĩa egũcookanĩrĩria gĩkehumbwo nĩ ũrĩa mũthingu, na arĩa matarĩ mahĩtia nĩo makaagayana betha yake.
18 He builds his house as the moth, as a booth which the watchman makes.
Nyũmba ĩrĩa aakaga no ta nyũmba ya kĩĩhuruta, ningĩ no ta gĩthũnũ gĩakĩtwo nĩ mũrangĩri.
19 He lies down rich, but he shall not do so again. He opens his eyes, and it is gone.
Agaakoma arĩ mũtongu, no ndagacooka gwĩka ũguo rĩngĩ; akaahingũra maitho akore gũtirĩ kĩndũ arĩ nakĩo.
20 Terrors overtake him like waters. A storm steals him away in the night.
Imakania imũkoragĩrĩra ta mũiyũro wa maaĩ; kĩhuhũkanio gĩkaamũhuria ũtukũ.
21 The east wind carries him away, and he departs. It sweeps him out of his place.
Rũhuho rwa mwena wa Irathĩro rũmuoyaga akabuĩria; rũmweheragia kũrĩa atũũraga.
22 For it hurls at him, and does not spare, as he flees away from his hand.
Rũmũhurutaga rũtarĩ na tha o rĩrĩa aroorĩra hinya waruo.
23 Men shall clap their hands at him, and shall hiss him out of his place.
Rũhũũraga hĩ rũkamũkenerera, na rũkagamba ta nyoka rũkamũruta kũrĩa atũũraga.”
