< Zabbuli 127 >

1 Oluyimba nga balinnya amadaala. Lwa Sulemaani. Mukama bw’atazimba nnyumba, abo abagizimba bazimbira bwereere. Mukama bw’atakuuma kibuga, abakuumi bateganira bwereere.
A song for pilgrims going up to Jerusalem. A psalm of Solomon. If the Lord doesn't build the house, the work of the builders is futile. If the Lord doesn't guard the city, the work of the guards is pointless.
2 Oteganira bwereere bw’okeera mu makya n’okola, ate n’olwawo n’okwebaka ng’okolerera ekyokulya; kubanga Mukama abaagalwa be abawa otulo.
It's useless to get up early in the morning and go to work, and stay late into the evening, worrying about earning enough to eat, when the Lord gives rest to those he loves.
3 Abaana aboobulenzi kya bugagga okuva eri Mukama; era abaana mpeera gy’agaba okuva gy’ali.
Children certainly are a gift from the Lord, for a family is a blessing.
4 Ng’obusaale bwe bubeera mu mukono gw’omulwanyi, n’abaana abazaalibwa mu buvubuka bw’omuntu bwe bali bwe batyo.
Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children of a young man.
5 Alina omukisa omuntu oyo ajjuzza ensawo ye n’obusaale, kubanga tebaliswazibwa; balyolekera abalabe baabwe mu mulyango omunene.
Happy is the father who fills his quiver with them! Such fathers will not be embarrassed when they confront their enemies at the city gate.

< Zabbuli 127 >