Isaia 15
1 Ty bekoeñe i Moabe: Amy haleñe androtsahañe i Arey, mongotse ty Moabe; amy haleñe androtsahañe i Kirey, mongotse ty Moabe.
A message about Moab. The town of Ar in Moab is devastated, destroyed in a single night! The town of Kir in Moab is devastated, destroyed in a single night!
2 Nionjoñe mb’amy Baite mb’eo re, mb’amy Dibone, naho o haboañeo hirovetse; mb’amy Nebò naho i Medeba, mañaolo t’i Moabe; sola peake ze hene añambone, hinitsike ze fonga somatse.
The people of Dibon go up to their temple to weep at its high places. The Moabites weep over the towns of Nebo and Medeba. Every head has been shaved, every beard has been cut off in mourning.
3 Misikin-gony an-dalañe eo; songa mangololoike, mangoihoy ty rovetse o an-tafon’ anjomba naho an-tameañeo.
They wear sackcloth in their streets. On the rooftops and in the open squares they all weep, falling down crying.
4 Mikaikaike ka ty Kesbone naho i Elalè; tsanoñeñe pak’e Iatsà ty feo’ iareo; mikointsañe o lahin-defo’ i Moabeo; mitoirañe an-tro’e ao ty fiai’e.
The people of Heshbon and Elealeh cry out in sadness, their voices heard as far as Jahaz. That's why even the bravest soldiers of Moab shout—because they're so terrified.
5 Tolihe’ ty troko t’i Moabe, ie mitriban-day mb’e Tsoare mb’eo o sehanga’eo, i kiloa telo taoñey; fa amy fitroara’ i Lotitey eo ty angololoiha’ iareo am-panganihañe, amy lala’ i Koronaimey ty ikoiha’ iareo hazolava.
I weep over Moab. Moabite refugees run all the way to Zoar and to Eglath-shelishiyah. Weeping they go up Luhith hill; crying for their destruction they walk along the road to Horonaim.
6 Koake o rano’ i Nimrimeo; hene niforejeje ty ahetse, niheatse o bokao, tsy aman’ antsetra.
The waters of Nimrim have all dried up. The grass is withered, all the vegetation has disappeared—nothing green is left.
7 Aa le hasese’ iareo mb’an-Torahan-Tsohihy mb’eo ty vara nivokare’ iereo, ty vokatse nahaja’ iareo an-driha ao.
Everything they had gained, all their possessions, they have to carry across Willow River.
8 Nanitsike i Moabe pak’añ’efe-tane’e añe i koikey, i fañaoloa’ey pak’ Eglaime, i fangololoiha’ey pake Birelime.
Their cry of grief echoes through the whole country of Moab; their wailing and mourning extends all the way from Eglaim to Beer-elim.
9 Atse-dio ty rano’ i Dimone; fe mbe ho tompeako ty Dimone, ty liona, amo hivoratsake boake Moabeo, naho amo sehanga’ i taneio.
River Dimon is full of blood, but I will bring more upon the town of Dimon—a lion to attack the Moabite refugees and those who are left in the country.
