Job 17
1 Mmụọ m tiwara etiwa, ụbọchị m niile dị mkpụmkpụ, ili na-echere ịnabata m.
“My spirit is broken; my days are extinguished; the grave awaits me.
2 Nʼezie ndị na-akwa emo gbara m gburugburu; anya m na-elekwasịkwa mkpasu iwe ha.
Surely mockers surround me, and my eyes must gaze at their rebellion.
3 “Debere m ihe ebe nʼebe gị Chineke nọ. Olee onye ọzọ pụrụ ịnara m nʼakaebe?
Give me, I pray, the pledge You demand. Who else will be my guarantor?
4 I mechiela uche ha ka ha ghara inwe nghọta; ya mere, i gaghị ekwe ka ha nwee mmeri.
You have closed their minds to understanding; therefore You will not exalt them.
5 Ọ bụrụ na mmadụ ekwujọọ enyi ya ka o were nweta uru dị nʼime ya, anya ụmụ ya ga-ada mba.
If a man denounces his friends for a price, the eyes of his children will fail.
6 “Chineke emeela ka m bụrụ okwu ilu nye onye ọbụla, meekwa ka m bụrụ onye ha na-agbụsa asọ mmiri nʼihu.
He has made me a byword among the people, a man in whose face they spit.
7 Anya m na-ahụ inyogho inyogho nʼihi iru ụjụ; ahụ m aghọọla onyinyo nke ihe m bụ na mbụ.
My eyes have grown dim with grief, and my whole body is but a shadow.
8 Ndị na-eme ihe ziri ezi na-akụja mgbe ha hụrụ nke a; ndị aka ha dị ọcha na-enwe mkpali megide ndị ajọ omume.
The upright are appalled at this, and the innocent are stirred against the godless.
9 Ma otu ọbụla ọ dị, ndị ezi omume ga-aga nʼihu nʼiso ụzọ ha, ndị aka ha dị ọcha ga-aga nʼihu nʼịdị ike.
Yet a righteous one holds to his way, and the one with clean hands grows stronger.
10 “Ma bịanụ, unu niile, bidonụ okwu unu ọzọ! Agaghị m achọta onye maara ihe nʼetiti unu.
But come back and try again, all of you. For I will not find a wise man among you.
11 Ụbọchị m niile agafeela, atụmatụ m abụrụla ihe lara nʼiyi. Ma ọchịchọ nke obi m
My days have passed; my plans are broken off— even the desires of my heart.
12 na-edo abalị nʼọnọdụ ehihie; nʼihu ọchịchịrị ka ìhè dị nso.
They have turned night into day, making light seem near in the face of darkness.
13 Ọ bụrụ na ebe obibi m na-ele anya ya bụ ili, ọ bụrụ na m agbasaa ihe ndina m nʼelu ọchịchịrị, (Sheol h7585)
If I look for Sheol as my home, if I spread out my bed in darkness, (Sheol h7585)
14 a sikwa na m asị ire ure, ‘Nna m ka ị bụ,’ maọbụ sị ikpuru ‘Nne m’ maọbụ ‘Nwanne m nwanyị,’
and say to corruption, ‘You are my father,’ and to the worm, ‘My mother,’ or ‘My sister,’
15 ebeekwa ka olileanya m dị? Onye pụrụ ịhụ ma m nwere olileanya?
where then is my hope? Who can see any hope for me?
