Job 39
1 Knowest thou the season when the Wild Goats of the crags beget? The bringing forth of the hinds, canst thou observe?
“Wonim ɛberɛ a bepɔ so mmirekyie wowoɔ? Woahwɛ, ahunu ɛberɛ a ɔforoteɛ nyinsɛn ne ba?
2 Canst thou count the months they fulfil? Or knowest thou the time when they give birth?
Woakane abosome dodoɔ a wɔde nyinsɛn? Wonim ɛberɛ a wɔwoɔ anaa?
3 They kneel down, their young, they bring forth; their pains, they throw off;
Wɔkoto wowo wɔn mma; na wɔn awokoɔ yea to twa.
4 Their young become strong, they grow up in the open field, they go out, and return not unto them.
Wɔn mma nyini ahoɔden so wɔ wiram; na wɔgya wɔn awofoɔ hɔ a wɔnnsane nkɔ wɔn nkyɛn bio.
5 Who hath sent forth the Wild Ass free? And, the bands of the swift-runner, who hath loosed?
“Hwan na ɔma wiram afunumu fa ne ho die? Hwan na ɔsanee ne nhoma?
6 Whose house I have made the waste plain, and his dwellings, the land of salt:
Mede asase bonini maa no sɛ ne fie, ne nkyene asase tamaa sɛ nʼatenaeɛ.
7 He laugheth at the throng of the city, The shoutings of the driver, he heareth not;
Ɔsere kurom gyegyeegyeyɛ no; na ɔnte ɔkafoɔ nteateam.
8 He espieth the mountains, his pasture-ground, and, after every green thing, maketh search.
Ɔkyinkyini mmepɔ no so sɛ nʼadidibea; ɛhɔ na ɔkyin hwehwɛ wira mono biara.
9 Will the Wild-Ox be pleased to be thy servant? or lodge for the night by thy crib?
“Ɛkoɔ bɛpene sɛ ɔbɛsom wo anaa? Ɔbɛtena wo mmoa adididaka nkyɛn anadwo anaa?
10 Canst thou bind the wild-ox, so that—with the ridge—shall run his cord? Or will he harrow the furrows after thee?
Wobɛtumi asa no wɔ fentemfidie so? Ɔbɛfentem mmɔnhwa a ɛda wʼakyi anaa?
11 Wilt thou trust in him, because of the greatness of his strength? Wilt thou leave unto him thy toil?
Wobɛtumi de wo ho ato no so ɛsiane nʼahoɔden dodoɔ nti? Wobɛgya wʼadwuma a ɛyɛ den ama no anaa?
12 Wilt thou put faith in him, that he will bring back thy seed? and that, corn for thy threshing-floor, he will gather?
Wogye di sɛ ɔde wʼaburo bɛba na waboa ano de akɔ ayuporobea anaa?
13 The wing of the Ostrich that waveth itself joyfully, Is it the pinion of lovingkindness or the plumage?
“Sohori bɔ nʼataban mu anigyeɛ so, nanso wɔntumi mfa ntoto asukɔnkɔn deɛ ho.
14 For she leaveth—to the earth—her eggs, and, on the dust, she letteth them be warmed;
Ɔto ne nkosua gu asase so ma mfuturo ka no hye,
15 And hath forgotten, that, a foot, may crush them, —or, the wild beast, tread on them!
ɛmfa ne ho sɛ ɛnan bi bɛpɛkyɛ no, sɛ wiram aboa bi bɛtiatia so.
16 Dealing hardly with her young, as none-of-hers, In vain, her labour, without dread.
Ɔbɔ ne mma atirimuɔden sɛdeɛ wɔnnyɛ ne dea; ɛmfa ne ho sɛ nʼadwuma bɛyɛ kwa,
17 For GOD hath suffered her to forget wisdom, and given her no share in understanding.
ɛfiri sɛ Onyankopɔn amma no nyansa, wamma no nhunumu biara.
18 What time, on high, she vibrateth her wings, she laugheth at the horse and his rider.
Nanso sɛ ɔtrɛ ne ntaban mu tu mmirika a, ɔsere ɔpɔnkɔ ne ne sotefoɔ.
19 Couldst thou give—to the Horse—strength? Couldst thou clothe his neck with the quivering mane?
“Wo na woma ɔpɔnkɔ no nʼahoɔden anaa wode ne kɔn mu nwi kuhaa no ma no?
20 Couldst thou cause him to leap like a locust? The majesty of his snort, is a terror!
Wo na woma no huri te sɛ ntutummɛ, na ɔde ne nkorɔmo hunahuna anaa?
21 He diggeth into the plain, and rejoiceth in vigour, he goeth forth to meet armour;
Ɔde ne nan tintim fam denden, na nʼani gye nʼahoɔden mu, na afei ɔbɔ wura ɔko mu.
22 He laugheth at dread, and is not dismayed, neither turneth he back, from the face of the sword;
Ɔmmɔ hu, na ɔnsuro biribiara; ɔhunu akofena a ɔnnwane.
23 Against him, whiz [the arrows of] the quiver, the flashing head of spear and javelin;
Bɛmma woso wɔ ne nkyɛn mu bɔha mu, na pea ne pɛmɛ nso di ahim wɔ ne ho.
24 With stamping and rage, he drinketh up the ground, —he will not stand still when the horn soundeth;
Ɔfiri ahopereɛ mu de nʼano sisi fam; na sɛ wɔhyɛn totorobɛnto a, ɔntumi nnyina faako.
25 As oft as the horn soundeth, he saith, Aha! And, from afar, he scenteth the battle, —the thunder of commanders and the war-cry.
Sɛ totorobɛnto hyɛne a ɔka sɛ, ‘Wiɛɛ!’ ɔte ɔko ho hwa firi akyirikyiri, ɔsahene no nteamu ne ɔko mu osebɔ.
26 Is it, by thine understanding, that the Bird of Passage betaketh him to his pinions? spreadeth out his wings to the south?
“Wo nyansa na ɛma akorɔma tuo na ɔtrɛ ne ntaban mu fa anafoɔ?
27 Or, at thy bidding, that the Eagle mounteth, and that he setteth on high his nest?
Wo na wohyɛ ɔkɔdeɛ ma no tu kɔ sorosoro kɔyɛ ne pirebuo wɔ hɔ?
28 The crag, he inhabiteth, and so lodgeth himself, on the tooth of the crag, and high fort;
Ɔbotan mu na ɔteɛ na ɛhɔ na ɔda; ɔbotan sorɔnsorɔn yɛ nʼabandenden.
29 From thence, he searcheth out food, far away, his eyes do pierce;
Ɛhɔ na ɔfiri kɔpɛ nʼaduane; nʼani hunu adeɛ a ɛwɔ akyirikyiri.
30 And, his young brood, suck up blood, and, where the slain are, there, is he.
Mogya yɛ ne mma aduane, na baabi a atɔfoɔ wɔ no, ɛhɔ na ɔwɔ.”
