Thaburi 2
1 Nĩ kĩĩ gĩtũmaga ndũrĩrĩ iciirĩre gwĩka ũũru na andũ mathugunde maũndũ ma tũhũ?
Why doe the heathen rage, and the people murmure in vaine?
2 Athamaki a thĩ nĩmatuĩte itua, na aathani magacookania ndundu nĩguo mookĩrĩre Jehova, na mookĩrĩre Ũrĩa wake Mũitĩrĩrie Maguta.
The Kings of the earth band themselues, and the princes are assembled together against the Lord, and against his Christ.
3 Moigaga atĩrĩ, “Nĩtwĩohorei mĩnyororo yao, na mabĩngũ mao tũmate matweherere.”
Let vs breake their bands, and cast their cordes from vs.
4 Ũrĩa ũikarĩire gĩtĩ kĩa ũnene kũu igũrũ no gũtheka aratheka; We Mwathani-rĩ, nĩkũnyũrũria aramanyũrũria.
But he that dwelleth in the heauen, shall laugh: the Lord shall haue them in derision.
5 Ningĩ agacooka akamakũũma arakarĩte, na akamekĩra guoya mũnene angʼũrĩkĩte akameera atĩrĩ,
Then shall hee speake vnto them in his wrath, and vexe them in his sore displeasure, saying,
6 “Niĩ nĩ niĩ njigĩte Mũthamaki wakwa kũu Zayuni, kĩrĩma-inĩ gĩakwa kĩrĩa kĩamũre.”
Euen I haue set my King vpon Zion mine holy mountaine.
7 Niĩ nĩngwanĩrĩra itua rĩa Jehova: Jehova aanjĩĩrire atĩrĩ, “Wee nĩwe Mũrũ wakwa, ũmũthĩ nĩndatuĩka thoguo.
I will declare the decree: that is, the Lord hath said vnto me, Thou art my Sonne: this day haue I begotten thee.
8 Hooya niĩ, na nĩngũkũhe ndũrĩrĩ ituĩke igai rĩaku, nacio ituri cia thĩ ituĩke ciaku kĩũmbe.
Aske of me, and I shall giue thee the heathen for thine inheritance, and the endes of the earth for thy possession.
9 Nĩũgaciunanga na njũgũma ya kĩgera ya ũthamaki; ũgaacihehenja ihaane ta tũcunjĩ twa nyũngũ ya rĩũmba.”
Thou shalt krush them with a scepter of yron, and breake them in pieces like a potters vessell.
10 Nĩ ũndũ ũcio, inyuĩ athamaki ta kĩũhĩgeei, inyuĩ aathani a thĩ mũtaarĩke.
Be wise nowe therefore, ye Kings: be learned ye Iudges of the earth.
11 Tungatĩrai Jehova mũkĩmwĩtigagĩra, na mũkene o mũkĩinainaga.
Serue the Lord in feare, and reioyce in trembling.
12 Mumunyai Mũriũ, ndakae kũrakara, na inyuĩ mũniinĩrwo njĩra-inĩ, nĩgũkorwo mangʼũrĩ make maahota kũrĩrĩmbũka o rĩmwe. Kũrathimwo-rĩ, nĩ arĩa othe moragĩra harĩ we.
Kisse the sonne, least he be angry, and ye perish in the way, when his wrath shall suddenly burne. blessed are all that trust in him.
