Thaburi 2
1 Nĩ kĩĩ gĩtũmaga ndũrĩrĩ iciirĩre gwĩka ũũru na andũ mathugunde maũndũ ma tũhũ?
Wherefore have nations assembled in tumult? Or should, peoples, mutter an empty thing?
2 Athamaki a thĩ nĩmatuĩte itua, na aathani magacookania ndundu nĩguo mookĩrĩre Jehova, na mookĩrĩre Ũrĩa wake Mũitĩrĩrie Maguta.
The kings of earth take their station, and, grave men, have met by appointment together, —against Yahweh, and against his Anointed One [saying]:
3 Moigaga atĩrĩ, “Nĩtwĩohorei mĩnyororo yao, na mabĩngũ mao tũmate matweherere.”
Let us break asunder their bonds, —and cast from us their cords!
4 Ũrĩa ũikarĩire gĩtĩ kĩa ũnene kũu igũrũ no gũtheka aratheka; We Mwathani-rĩ, nĩkũnyũrũria aramanyũrũria.
He that sitteth in the heavens, will laugh, —My Lord, will mock at them:
5 Ningĩ agacooka akamakũũma arakarĩte, na akamekĩra guoya mũnene angʼũrĩkĩte akameera atĩrĩ,
Then, will he speak unto them in his anger, and, in his wrath, confound them:
6 “Niĩ nĩ niĩ njigĩte Mũthamaki wakwa kũu Zayuni, kĩrĩma-inĩ gĩakwa kĩrĩa kĩamũre.”
Yet, I, have installed my king, —on Zion my holy mountain.
7 Niĩ nĩngwanĩrĩra itua rĩa Jehova: Jehova aanjĩĩrire atĩrĩ, “Wee nĩwe Mũrũ wakwa, ũmũthĩ nĩndatuĩka thoguo.
Let me tell of a decree, —Yahweh, hath said unto me, My son, thou art, I, to-day, have begotten thee:
8 Hooya niĩ, na nĩngũkũhe ndũrĩrĩ ituĩke igai rĩaku, nacio ituri cia thĩ ituĩke ciaku kĩũmbe.
Ask of me, and let me give nations as thine inheritance, and, as thy possession, the ends of the earth:
9 Nĩũgaciunanga na njũgũma ya kĩgera ya ũthamaki; ũgaacihehenja ihaane ta tũcunjĩ twa nyũngũ ya rĩũmba.”
Thou shalt shepherd them with a sceptre of iron, —as a potter’s vessel, shalt thou dash them in pieces.
10 Nĩ ũndũ ũcio, inyuĩ athamaki ta kĩũhĩgeei, inyuĩ aathani a thĩ mũtaarĩke.
Now, therefore, ye kings, show your prudence, Be admonished, ye judges of earth:
11 Tungatĩrai Jehova mũkĩmwĩtigagĩra, na mũkene o mũkĩinainaga.
Serve Yahweh with reverence, and exult with 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.
Kiss the son, lest he be angry, and ye perish by the way, for soon might be kindled his anger, —How happy are all who seek refuge in him!
