< Abụ Ọma 42 >
1 Abụ Ọma nke dịrị onyeisi abụ. Abụ Maskil nke ụmụ Kora. Dịka agụụ ịṅụ mmiri si na-agụ nne ele, otu a ka agụụ ihe banyere gị si na-agụ m, O Chineke.
For the music director. A psalm (maskil) of the sons of Korah. As a deer longs for flowing streams, so I long for you, God.
2 Akpịrị nke ihe banyere Chineke, bụ Chineke ahụ dị ndụ, na-akpọ m nkụ. Olee mgbe m pụrụ ịga zute Chineke?
I am thirsty for God, the living God. When can I go and see God's face?
3 Anya mmiri m aghọọlara m ihe oriri nʼehihie ma nʼabalị, mgbe ndị mmadụ na-asị m ogologo ụbọchị niile, “Olee ebe Chineke gị nọ?”
My tears have been my only food, day and night, while people ask me all day long, “Where is your God?”
4 Ihe ndị a ka m na-echeta mgbe m na-ekwupụta ihe mgbu nke obi m: ma m cheta mgbe mụ na igwe mmadụ so aga, mgbe m ji iti mkpu ọṅụ na ekele na-edu ha nʼetiti ọha kachasị ibe ya, ndị ọṅụ juru obi, na-aga nʼụlọ Chineke.
I am crushed as I remember how I walked with the crowds, leading them in a procession to the house of God, with shouts of joy and songs of thanks among the worshipers at the festival.
5 O mkpụrụobi m, gịnị mere i ji daa mba? Gịnị mere i ji na-asụ ude nʼime m? Nwee olileanya na Chineke, nʼihi na m ka ga-eto ya, Onye nzọpụta m na Chineke m.
Why am I so discouraged? Why do I feel so sad? I will hope in God; I will praise him because he is the one who saves me—
6 Mkpụrụobi m na-ada mba nʼime m; ya mere, aga m echeta gị site nʼala Jọdan, na ebe dị elu nke Hemon, na sitekwa nʼugwu Miza.
my God! Even though I am very discouraged, I still remember you: from the land of Jordan and Hermon, and from Mount Mizar.
7 Ogbu mmiri na-akpọku ogbu mmiri mgbe olu ha na-ada ụda nʼetiti nruda mmiri gị niile; ebili mmiri gị niile na mmali mmiri gị niile ekpuchiela isi m.
You thunder through the raging waters, through the noise of the waterfalls. Your crashing waves surge over me—I feel like I'm drowning.
8 Nʼehihie, Onyenwe anyị na-awụkwasị m ịhụnanya ya, nʼabalị abụ ya dị m nʼobi, ekpere nye Chineke nke ndụ m.
But every day the Lord shows me his trustworthy love; every night he gives me songs to sing—a prayer to the God of my life.
9 Ana m asị Chineke, oke nkume m, “Gịnị mere i ji chefuo m? Gịnị mere m ga-eji na-ejegharị nʼiru ụjụ nʼihi mmegbu nke onye iro?”
I cry out, “My God, my rock, why have you forgotten me? Why must I go around weeping because of the attacks of my enemies?”
10 Ọkpụkpụ m na-agabiga oke ihe mgbu, mgbe ndị iro m ji m na-eme ihe ọchị, ogologo ụbọchị niile ha na-ajụ m, “Olee ebe Chineke gị nọ?”
The mocking of my attackers crushes my bones. They're always asking me, “Where is your God?”
11 O mkpụrụobi m, gịnị mere i ji daa mba? Gịnị mere i ji na-asụ ude nʼime m? Nwee olileanya na Chineke, nʼihi na m ka ga-eto ya ọzọ, Onye nzọpụta m na Chineke m.
Why am I so discouraged? Why do I feel so sad? I will hope in God; I will praise him because he is the one who saves me—my God!