Psalms 137

1 By the rivers of Babylon we sat down and wept when we thought about Zion.

I te taha o nga wai o Papurona, noho ana tatou i reira, ae, tangi ana tatou, ia tatou i mahara ai ki Hiona.

2 On the poplars there we hung our harps.

Whakairia ake e tatou a tatou hapa ki runga ki nga wirou i waenganui o reira.

3 There our captors required songs from us, and those who mocked us required us to be happy, saying, “Sing us one of the songs of Zion.”

No te mea i tono i reira te hunga nana tatou i herehere ki etahi waiata i a tatou, me te hunga nana tatou i tukino i tono mai he hari i a tatou, i mea mai, Waiatatia mai ki a matou tetahi o nga waiate o Hiona.

4 How could we sing a song about Yahweh in a foreign land?

Me pehea matou ka waiata ai i te waiata a Ihowa i te whenua tauhou?

5 If I ignore the memory of you, Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her skill.

Ki te wareware ahau ki a koe, e Hiruharama, kia wareware toku ringa matau ki tana mahi.

6 Let my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth if I think about you no more, if I do not prefer Jerusalem more than my greatest delights.

Ki te kore ahau e mahara ki a koe, kia piri toku arero ki toku ngao; ki te kore ahau e whakanui i Hiruharama ki runga ake i taku mea i tino hari ai.

7 Call to mind, Yahweh, what the Edomites did on the day Jerusalem fell. They said, “Tear it down, tear it down to its foundations.”

E Ihowa, maharatia nga tama a Eroma i te ra o Hiruharama; ta ratou meatanga, Whakahoroa, whakahoroa, a taea rawatia ano tona turanga.

8 Daughter of Babylon, soon to be destroyed— may the person be blessed, whoever pays you back for what you have done to us.

E te tamahine o Papurona, meake nei whakangaromia, ka hari te tangata e utua ai koe mo tau i mea ai ki a matou.

9 May the person be blessed, whoever takes and dashes your little ones against a rock.

Ka hari te tangata e hopu ana, e ta ana i au mea nohinohi ki runga ki te kohatu.