Job 27
1 And Job addeth to lift up his simile, and saith: —
Jòb pran lapawòl ankò pou l' bay rès repons li a. Li di konsa:
2 God liveth! He turned aside my judgment, And the Mighty — He made my soul bitter.
-Mwen fè sèman, mwen pran Bondye vivan an pou temwen, Bondye ki gen tout pouvwa a, li menm ki refize rann mwen jistis la, li menm ki ban m' degoutans ak lavi a,
3 For all the while my breath [is] in me, And the spirit of God in my nostrils.
toutotan mwen poko mouri, toutotan Bondye ban m' yon ti souf toujou,
4 My lips do not speak perverseness, And my tongue doth not utter deceit.
mwen p'ap janm kite ankenn move pawòl soti nan bouch mwen, ni m' p'ap janm bay ankenn manti.
5 Pollution to me — if I justify you, Till I expire I turn not aside mine integrity from me.
Pa janm konprann m'ap ban nou rezon! M'ap kenbe ak nou mwen inonsan jouk mwen rann dènye souf mwen.
6 On my righteousness I have laid hold, And I do not let it go, My heart doth not reproach me while I live.
Mwen soti pou m' defann kòz mwen. Mwen p'ap fè bak. Konsyans mwen pa repwoche m' anyen. M' pa gen anyen ki pou fè m' wont.
7 As the wicked is my enemy, And my withstander as the perverse.
Se pou tout moun ki pa vle wè m' yo sibi menm sò ak mechan yo. Se pou lènmi m' yo gen menm sò ak moun ki pa mache dwat yo.
8 For what [is] the hope of the profane, When He doth cut off? When God doth cast off his soul?
Ki espwa ki gen pou mechan an lè Bondye rele l', lè li pral pran nanm li?
9 His cry doth God hear, When distress cometh on him?
Lè malè ap tonbe sou mechan an, èske Bondye ap tande rèl li yo?
10 On the Mighty doth he delight himself? Call God at all times?
Li pa t' janm pran plezi l' nan fè volonte Bondye. Li pa t' lapriyè Bondye tout tan.
11 I shew you by the hand of God, That which [is] with the Mighty I hide not.
Kite m' moutre nou jan Bondye konnen sa l'ap fè. Mwen p'ap kache di nou sa ki nan tèt Bondye ki gen tout pouvwa a.
12 Lo, ye — all of you — have seen, And why [is] this — ye are altogether vain?
Sa m'ap di la a? Nou wè tou sa ak je nou byen pwòp tou. Poukisa atò tout pale anpil sa a ki pa vle di anyen?
13 This [is] the portion of wicked man with God, And the inheritance of terrible ones From the Mighty they receive.
Lè sa a, Sofa, moun lavil Naama a, pran lapawòl. Epi li di: -Men kisa Bondye pare pou mechan yo. Men sa li sere pou chèf k'ap peze pèp la.
14 If his sons multiply — for them [is] a sword. And his offspring [are] not satisfied [with] bread.
Yo te mèt gen anpil pitit gason, yo tout ap mouri nan lagè. Pitit yo p'ap janm gen kont manje pou yo manje.
15 His remnant in death are buried, And his widows do not weep.
Sa ki chape nan lagè, move maladi ap pote yo ale. Ata vèv yo p'ap ka rele pou yo jou lanmò yo.
16 If he heap up as dust silver, And as clay prepare clothing,
Mechan an te mèt anpile lajan kou l' pa konnen, li te mèt gen rad depase sa l' bezwen,
17 He prepareth — and the righteous putteth [it] on, And the silver the innocent doth apportion.
se moun dwat yo ki va mete rad yo, se pou moun inonsan yo lajan an va rete.
18 He hath built as a moth his house, And as a booth a watchman hath made.
Kay li bati tankou twal anasi, tankou yon ti kay jaden.
19 Rich he lieth down, and he is not gathered, His eyes he hath opened, and he is not.
Nan aswè, li moute kabann li rich. Lè li leve, li pa jwenn anyen.
20 Overtake him as waters do terrors, By night stolen him away hath a whirlwind.
Malè tonbe sou li tankou lavalas k'ap desann. Yon sèl nwit lan, yon gwo van pote l' ale.
21 Take him up doth an east wind, and he goeth, And it frighteneth him from his place,
Yon van lès leve, li pote l' ale. Li rache l' nan kay kote l' ye a.
22 And it casteth at him, and doth not spare, From its hand he diligently fleeth.
Van an ap vante sou li san pitye. Li menm l'ap fè sa li kapab pou l' chape anba l'.
23 It clappeth at him its hands, And it hisseth at him from his place.
Moun kontan wè jan li fini. Kote l' pase, y'ap rele chalbari dèyè l'.
