Jòb 30
1 Men koulye a, sila ki pi jenn pase m ap giyonnen m. Papa a sila mwen pat ta dakò pou mete ansanm ak chen bann mouton yo.
But, now, they who are of fewer days than I, have poured derision upon me; whose fathers I refused—to set with the dogs of my flock.
2 Anverite, ki byen fòs men pa yo ta kab fè m? Gwo fòs te deja disparèt nan yo
Even the strength of their hands, wherefore was it mine? Upon them, vigour was lost;
3 akoz mank bagay ak grangou. Y ap manje tè sèk nan lannwit lan, ak pèt e ak dezolasyon an.
In want and hunger, they were lean, —who used to gnaw the dry ground, a dark night of desolation!
4 Yo rache fèy raje nan mitan rakèt la. Manje yo se rasin bayawonn.
Who used to pluck off the mallow by the bushes, with the root of the broom for their food;
5 Yo chase yo deyò lavil la nan dezè; yo kriye dèyè yo tankou se vòlè,
Out of the midst, were they driven, men shouted after them, as after a thief;
6 jiskaske yo vin rete nan move ravin yo, nan twou tè ak nan wòch yo.
In the fissures, of the ravines had they to dwell, in holes of dust and crags;
7 Pami rak tibwa yo, yo rele fò. Anba machacha a, yo vin rasanble ansanm.
Among the bushes, used they to shriek, Under the bramble, were they huddled together:
8 Pitit a moun fou, wi, pitit a mechan yo, yo te resevwa fwèt jis lè yo kite peyi a.
Sons of the base, yea sons of the nameless, they were scourged out of the land.
9 Men koulye a, se mwen menm yo pase nan rizib; mwen devni yon pawòl betiz pou yo.
But, now, their song, have I become, Yea I serve them for a byword;
10 Yo pè m, yo kanpe lwen m, e yo pa sispann krache nan figi m.
They abhor me—have put themselves far from me, and, from my face, have not withheld—spittle!
11 Akoz Li te lage fisèl banza a pou te aflije mwen, yo rete retire brid la nèt devan m.
Because, my girdle, he had loosened and had humbled me, therefore, the bridle—in my presence, cast they off;
12 Sou men dwat lan, nich sa vin leve. Yo rale pye mwen akote. Yo mennen kont mwen tout manèv destriksyon yo.
On my right hand, the young brood rose up, —My feet, they thrust aside, and cast up against me their earthworks of destruction;
13 Yo gate wout mwen. Yo bourade lachit mwen san mande sekou.
They brake up my path, —My engulfing ruin, they helped forward, unaided;
14 Tankou nan yon gran brèch, yo parèt; nan mitan tanpèt, yo woule m.
As through a wide breach, came they on, with a crashing noise, they rolled themselves along.
15 Gwo perèz yo vin vire kont mwen. Yo tanmen gate respè m tankou van. Byennèt mwen disparèt tankou nwaj.
There are turned upon me terrors, —Chased away as with a wind, is mine abundance, and, as a cloud, hath passed away my prosperity.
16 Konsa, koulye a nanm mwen vide nèt. Jou afliksyon yo sezi m.
Now, therefore, over myself, my soul poureth itself out, There seize me days of affliction:
17 Nan lannwit, zo m yo frennen anndan m, e sa yo kap manje m pa pran repo.
Night, boreth, my bones, all over me, —and, my sinews, find no rest;
18 Ak gwo fòs, vètman m vin tòde sou mwen. Li mare m nèt tankou kolye manto m.
Most effectually, is my skin disfigured, —Like the collar of my tunic, it girdeth me about:
19 Li te jete mwen nan labou, e mwen te vin tankou pousyè ak sann.
He hath cast me into the mire, and I have become like dust and ashes.
20 Mwen kriye a Ou menm pou sekou, men Ou pa reponn mwen. Mwen kanpe, e se gete, Ou gete m.
I cry out for help unto thee, and thou dost not answer, I stand still, and thou dost gaze at me;
21 Ou vin okipe m ak mechanste. Avèk fòs a men Ou, Ou pèsekite m.
Thou art turned to become a cruel one unto me, With the might of thy hand, thou assailest me;
22 Ou leve m wo sou van, e fè m monte; epi Ou fè m fonn nèt nan move tan an.
Thou liftest up me to the wind, thou carriest me away, and the storm maketh me faint;
23 Paske mwen konnen ke Ou ap mennen m a lanmò, jis rive nan gwo kay asanble a ki fèt pou tout sila ki viv yo.
For I know that, unto death, thou wilt bring me back, even unto the house of meeting for every one living.
24 Malgre, èske yon moun k ap tonbe pa lonje men l? Oswa nan gwo pwoblem li pa kriye sekou?
Only, against a heap of ruins, will one not thrust a hand! Surely, when one is in calamity—for that very reason, is there an outcry for help.
25 Èske mwen pa t kriye pou sila nan gwo twoub? Èske nanm mwen pa t plen tristès pou malere a?
Verily I wept, for him whose lot was hard, Grieved was my soul, for the needy.
26 Lè m t ap tann sa ki bon an, se mal ki rive m; lè m tap tann limyè, alò se tenèb ki te vini.
Surely, for good, I looked, but there came in evil, And I waited for light, but there came in darkness;
27 Kè m twouble nèt anndan m. Mwen pa kab poze. Jou plen ak afliksyon yo parèt devan m.
I boiled within me, and rested not, There confronted me—days of affliction;
28 Mwen fè dèy toupatou san solèy. Mwen kanpe nan asanble; mwen rele sekou.
In gloom, I walked along, without sun, I arose—in the convocation, I cried out for help;
29 Mwen te vin frè ak chen mawon, zanmi ak otrich la.
A brother, became I to the brutes that howl, and a companion to the birds that screech:
30 Chè m vin nwa sou mwen, li kale, e zo m yo brile ak lafyèv.
My skin, turned black, and peeled off me, and, my bones, burned with heat:
31 Pou sa, se doulè ap mwen jwe, e flit mwen an sonne pou sila k ap kriye.
Thus is attuned to mourning—my lyre, and my flute, to the noise of them who weep.
