Job 17
1 My spirit is consumed, and my days are over; the grave is ready for me.
Roho wakwa nĩmũthuthĩku, matukũ makwa nĩmathirĩte, mbĩrĩra nĩyo ĩnjetereire.
2 Surely there are mockers with me; my eye must always see their provocation.
Ti-itherũ thiũrũrũkĩirio nĩ andũ a kũũnyũrũria; maitho makwa no nginya meerorere rũmena rwao.
3 Give now a pledge, be a guarantee for me with yourself; who else is there who will help me?
“Wee Ngai-rĩ, ta kĩĩhe kĩndũ gĩa kũrũgamĩrĩra thiirĩ wakwa kĩrĩa ũretia, tondũ-rĩ, nũũ ũngĩ ũngĩĩtĩkĩra kũruta kĩndũ gĩake kĩĩndũgamĩrĩre?
4 For you, God, have kept their hearts from understanding; therefore, you will not exalt them over me.
Wee nĩwaagithĩtie meciiria mao ũmenyo; nĩ ũndũ ũcio ndũngĩmetĩkĩria mahootane.
5 He who denounces his friends for a reward, the eyes of his children will fail.
Mũndũ angĩkaana arata ake nĩ ũndũ wa kĩheo-rĩ, maitho ma ciana ciake nĩmakoora.
6 But he has made me a byword of the people; they spit in my face.
“Ngai nĩanduĩte mũndũ wa kuunwo thimo nĩ andũ othe, nduĩkĩte mũndũ wa gũtuagĩrwo mata ũthiũ nĩ andũ.
7 My eye is also dim because of sorrow; all my body parts are as thin as shadows.
Maitho makwa nĩ maroora nĩ gwĩthikĩra; ciĩga ciakwa ciothe ihũthĩte o ta kĩĩruru.
8 Upright men will be stunned by this; the innocent man will stir himself up against godless men.
Andũ arĩa arũngĩrĩru nĩmagegetio nĩ ũhoro ũcio; andũ arĩa matarĩ na ũũru mekĩte nĩmarahũkĩte mokĩrĩre andũ arĩa matooĩ Ngai.
9 The righteous man will keep to his way; he who has clean hands will grow stronger and stronger.
O na kũrĩ ũguo-rĩ, arĩa athingu nĩmarĩrũmagia njĩra ciao, nao arĩa marĩ moko matheru nĩmarĩongagĩrĩrwo hinya.
10 But as for you all, come on now; I will not find a wise man among you.
“No rĩrĩ, ta gĩũkei inyuothe, geriai o rĩngĩ! Niĩ ndirĩ ndĩrona mũndũ mũũgĩ gatagatĩ kanyu.
11 My days are past; my plans are shattered, and so are the desires of my heart.
Matukũ makwa nĩ mathiru, mĩbango yakwa nĩmĩharaganie, o na merirĩria ma ngoro yakwa.
12 These people, these mockers, change the night into day; light is near to darkness.
Andũ aya magarũraga ũtukũ makaũtua mũthenya; nduma yamakinyĩrĩra moigaga atĩrĩ, ‘Ũtheri ũrĩ o hakuhĩ.’
13 If the only home I hope for is Sheol; and if I have spread my couch in the darkness; (Sheol h7585)
Angĩkorwo mũciĩ ũrĩa njĩrĩgĩrĩire no mbĩrĩra, angĩkorwo ingĩara ũrĩrĩ wakwa o nduma-inĩ-rĩ, (Sheol h7585)
14 and if I have said to the pit, 'You are my father,' and to the worm, 'You are my mother or my sister,'
angĩkorwo no njĩĩre ũhoro wa kũbutha atĩrĩ, ‘Wee nĩwe baba,’ na njĩĩre kĩgunyũ atĩrĩ, ‘Wee nĩwe maitũ’ kana ‘Nĩwe mwarĩ wa maitũ-rĩ’,
15 where then is my hope? As for my hope, who can see any?
mwĩhoko wakwa ũkĩrĩ kũ? Nũũ ũngĩnyonera mwĩhoko?
