Psalms 127

1 A song of ascents, of Solomon. Unless Yahweh builds the house, they work uselessly, those who build it. Unless Yahweh guards the city, the watchman stands guard uselessly.

Oluyimba nga balinnya amadaala. Lwa Sulemaani. Mukama bw’atazimba nnyumba, abo abagizimba bazimbira bwereere. Mukama bw’atakuuma kibuga, abakuumi bateganira bwereere.

2 It is useless for you to rise up early, to come home late, or to eat the bread of hard work, for Yahweh provides for his beloved as they sleep.

Oteganira bwereere bw’okeera mu makya n’okola, ate n’olwawo n’okwebaka ng’okolerera ekyokulya; kubanga Mukama abaagalwa be abawa otulo.

3 See, children are a heritage from Yahweh, and the fruit of the womb is a reward from him.

Abaana aboobulenzi kya bugagga okuva eri Mukama; era abaana mpeera gy’agaba okuva gy’ali.

4 Like arrows in the hand of a warrior, so are the children of one's youth.

Ng’obusaale bwe bubeera mu mukono gw’omulwanyi, n’abaana abazaalibwa mu buvubuka bw’omuntu bwe bali bwe batyo.

5 How blessed is the man that has his quiver full of them. He will not be put to shame when he confronts his enemies in the gate.

Alina omukisa omuntu oyo ajjuzza ensawo ye n’obusaale, kubanga tebaliswazibwa; balyolekera abalabe baabwe mu mulyango omunene.