Nahoma 3
1 Hankàñe amy rova mpampiori-dioy, lifotse vande naho vara kinopake, le lia’e tsy modo o tsindroheñeo.
Woe to the city of blood, full of lies, full of plunder, never without prey.
2 Inay ty karavantsy! Inao ty fikatrakatrà’ o laròn-tsareteo; heheke ty fitsapiotsapio’ o soavalao, naho o sarete mitrakotrakoo.
The crack of the whip, the rumble of the wheel, galloping horse and bounding chariot!
3 Mañoridañe o mpiningitse soavalao, mimilomilotse i fibaray; mipelapelatse i lefoñey; zinamañe i lahialeñey, tsifotofoto o votrin-doloo, o fañova mifitakeo; ie mitsikapy amo fateo;
Charging horseman, flashing sword, shining spear; heaps of slain, mounds of corpses, dead bodies without end— they stumble over their dead—
4 ty ami’ty hamaro’ o hakarapiloa’ i tsimirira kenakenakeio, i hekohekom-pamorekey, i mandetake fifeheañe amo hakalalijaha’eoy, naho hasavereñañe amo famoreha’eo.
because of the many harlotries of the harlot, the seductive mistress of sorcery, who betrays nations by her prostitution and clans by her witchcraft.
5 Inao! miatreatre azo iraho, hoe t’Iehovà’ i Màroy, le hatsingako an-doha’o eo o siki’oo, naho haboako amo kilakila’ondatio ty fihalo’o vaho amo fifeheañeo ty heña’o.
“Behold, I am against you,” declares the LORD of Hosts. “I will lift your skirts over your face. I will show your nakedness to the nations and your shame to the kingdoms.
6 Hafetsako ama’o ty raha mampangorý, hanivà’e azo, ie hanoeko fisambàñe.
I will pelt you with filth and treat you with contempt; I will make a spectacle of you.
7 Ie amy zao, hene handripak’ ama’o ze maharendrek’ azo, hanao ty hoe: Fa mangoakoake ty Ninevè; ia’ ty handala aze? aia ty hahatreavako mpañohò ho azo.
Then all who see you will recoil from you and say, ‘Nineveh is devastated; who will grieve for her?’ Where can I find comforters for you?”
8 Soa te amy No-amone v’iheo, Ie nitoetse añivon-tsaka eoy, naho niarikatohen-drano, i riakey ty nañaro aze, naho i ranoy ty ni-kijoli’e?
Are you better than Thebes, stationed by the Nile with water around her, whose rampart was the sea, whose wall was the water?
9 I Kose naho i Mitsraime ty nanolo-kaozarañ’ ama’e tsy nete ritse; nimpañolots’aze t’i Pote naho i Lobý.
Cush and Egypt were her boundless strength; Put and Libya were her allies.
10 F’ie nasese mb’eo, nisese mb’am-pandrohizañe añe, fonga naretsak’ an-doha’ o lalan-drovao ey o anak’ ajaja’eo; nanoe’ iereo tsato-piso o roandria’eo, vaho rinohy an-tsilisily iaby o ana-dona’eo.
Yet she became an exile; she went into captivity. Her infants were dashed to pieces at the head of every street. They cast lots for her dignitaries, and all her nobles were bound in chains.
11 Toe ho jike ka irehe, vaho hiàmpitse; ie hipay fitsolohañe ty amy rafelahiy.
You too will become drunk; you will go into hiding and seek refuge from the enemy.
12 Manahake o rotseo ze hene golobo’o mifahetse, ie ezeñezeñeñe ro mihintsañe mb’am-paliem-pikama ao.
All your fortresses are fig trees with the first ripe figs; when shaken, they fall into the mouth of the eater!
13 Oniño te hambañe aman’ampela ondaty añivo’oo; midañadaña ho a o rafelahio o lalambein-tane’oo; hampangotomomohe’ ty afo o sikada’eo.
Look at your troops— they are like your women! The gates of your land are wide open to your enemies; fire consumes their bars.
14 Mitariha rano ho amy fiarikoboñañey, haozaro o kijolio; mionjona amo lietseo, lialiao i pakotsey, vontitiro i mòlim-birìkey;
Draw your water for the siege; strengthen your fortresses. Work the clay and tread the mortar; repair the brick kiln!
15 Hamorototo azo ao ty afo, hañito azo i fibaray, habotse’e manahake i valalay; mifamorohota hoe kijeja, mivorovoroa hoe sy.
There the fire will devour you; the sword will cut you down and consume you like a young locust. Make yourself many like the young locust; make yourself many like the swarming locust!
16 Nampamasiañe’o mandikoatse o vasian-dikerañeo o mpibalibalik’ ama’oo; miofoke i kijejay vaho mitiliñe añe.
You have multiplied your merchants more than the stars of the sky. The young locust strips the land and flies away.
17 Hoe valala o mpigari’oo, mifamorohotse hoe kijeja o mpifehe’oo, ie mitobe an-kijoly eo naho manintsiñe ty andro, fe mipitsik’ añe te mafana-voho, vaho tsy fohiñe ty tane nombà’e.
Your guards are like the swarming locust, and your scribes like clouds of locusts that settle on the walls on a cold day. When the sun rises, they fly away, and no one knows where.
18 Mirotse o mpiara’oo ry mpanjaka’ i Asore, mitofa o roandria’oo; mivarakaik’ am-bohitse ey ondati’oo, vaho tsy eo ty hanontoña’o.
O king of Assyria, your shepherds slumber; your officers sleep. Your people are scattered on the mountains with no one to gather them.
19 Tsy hay melañeñe ty bae’o, mahaferenay o fere’oo; fonga hitehateha-pitàñe ty ama’o o mahajanjiñe i talili’oio; fa ia ty tsy nifetsaha’ o fampisoaña’o nitoloñeñe nainai’eo?
There is no healing for your injury; your wound is severe. All who hear the news of you applaud your downfall, for who has not experienced your constant cruelty?
