Psalms 30
1 A Melody. A Song for the Dedication of the House. David’s. I will extol thee, O Yahweh, for thou hast drawn me up, —and not suffered my foes to rejoice over me.
David ƒe ha na gbedoxɔ la ŋutikɔkɔ. O! Yehowa, mado wò ɖe dzi, elabena wòe hem do goe tso ʋe globo me, eye mèna mezu nu ɖikokoe na nye futɔwo o.
2 O Yahweh, my God, I cried for help unto thee, and thou hast healed me.
O! Yehowa, nye Mawu, mebia kpekpeɖeŋu tso gbɔwò, eye nèyɔ dɔm.
3 O Yahweh! thou hast lifted, out of hades, my soul, Thou hast brought me back to life, from among those who were going down to the pit. (Sheol h7585)
O! Yehowa, wòe ɖem tso tsiẽƒe, eye mèna meyi aʋlime o. (Sheol h7585)
4 Sweep the strings to Yahweh, ye his men of lovingkindness, and give ye praise at the mention of his holiness.
Midzi ha na Yehowa, mi eƒe ame kɔkɔewo, eye mikafu eƒe ŋkɔ kɔkɔe la.
5 For there is, a Moment, in his anger, a Life-time, in his good-pleasure, In the evening, cometh Weeping to lodge, But, by the morning,’tis a Shout of Triumph!
Elabena medoa dɔmedzoe eteƒe didina o, ke eƒe amenuveve ya nɔa anyi agbenɔɣi katã. Avifafa anɔ anyi le zã me, gake aseyetsotso ava le ŋdi me.
6 But, I, said, in my tranquility, I shall not be shaken to times age-abiding!
Esi mekpɔ be meli ke la, megblɔ be, “Nye la, nyemaʋuʋu kpɔ gbeɖe o.”
7 O Yahweh, in thy good-pleasure, hadst thou caused my mountain to stand, strong, —Thou didst hide thy face—I was dismayed!
O! Yehowa, esi nève nunye la, èna nye to li ke zã, gake esi nèɣla wò ŋkume ɖem la, nye mo tsi dãa.
8 Unto thee, O Yahweh, do I cry, —and, unto My Lord, do I make supplication:
Yehowa, wòe meyɔ, Yehowae medo ɣli na be wòakpɔ nublanui nam.
9 What profit in my blood? in my going down into the pit? Can dust praise thee? Can it declare thy faithfulness?
“Viɖe kae le eme ne donyeme gblẽ alo ne meyi ɖe aʋlime? Ɖe ʋuʋudedi akafu wòa? Ɖe wòaɖe gbeƒã wò nuteƒewɔwɔa?
10 Hear, O Yahweh, and show me favour, O Yahweh! become thou a helper unto me.
See, O! Yehowa, eye nàkpɔ nye nublanui; O! Yehowa, kpe ɖe ŋunye.”
11 Thou hast turned my lamentation, into a dance for me, —Thou hast torn off my sackcloth, and girded me with gladness:
Èna nye avifafa zu ɣeɖuɖu; èɖe akpanya le ŋutinye hetsɔ dzidzɔkpɔkpɔ do nam,
12 To the end that mine honour should make melody unto thee, and not be silent. O Yahweh, my God! Unto times age-abiding, will I praise thee.
ale be nye dzi nadzi ha na wò, eye mazi ɖoɖoe o. O! Yehowa, nye Mawu, mada akpe na wò tegbetegbe.
