Hopa 30
1 Inaianei ia e kataina mai ana ahau e te hunga tamariki rawa i ahau, e te hunga kihai nei ahau i whakaae kia uru o ratou matua ki roto ki nga kuri o taku kahui.
But, now, they who are of fewer days than I, have poured derision upon me; whose fathers I refused—to set with the dogs of my flock.
2 Ae ra, hei aha maku te kaha o o ratou ringa? He hanga pirau nei hoki to ratou koroheketanga.
Even the strength of their hands, wherefore was it mine? Upon them, vigour was lost;
3 Tupuhi ana ratou i te rawakore, i te hemokai; e ngau ana ratou i te oneone pakapaka, i roto i te pouritanga o te tuhea, o te ururua.
In want and hunger, they were lean, —who used to gnaw the dry ground, a dark night of desolation!
4 E whawhaki ana ratou i nga marou i roto o nga rakau ririki; a ko nga pakiaka hunipa hei kai ma ratou.
Who used to pluck off the mallow by the bushes, with the root of the broom for their food;
5 He mea pei atu ratou i roto i nga tangata; e karangarangatia ana ratou ano he tahae.
Out of the midst, were they driven, men shouted after them, as after a thief;
6 Me noho rawa atu ratou i nga kapiti o nga awaawa, i nga waro o te whenua, i nga kamaka.
In the fissures, of the ravines had they to dwell, in holes of dust and crags;
7 Tangi a kaihe ana ratou i roto i nga rakau ririki; huihuia ana ratou ki raro i nga ongaonga.
Among the bushes, used they to shriek, Under the bramble, were they huddled together:
8 He tamariki ratou na nga kuware, ae ra, he tamariki na te hunga ingoakore; he hunga i patua atu i runga i te whenua.
Sons of the base, yea sons of the nameless, they were scourged out of the land.
9 Inaianei ia kua waiho ahau hei waiata ma ratou, ae, hei whakatauki ma ratou.
But, now, their song, have I become, Yea I serve them for a byword;
10 E whakarihariha mai ana ratou ki ahau, e neke rawa atu ana i ahau, a kahore e kaiponuhia e ratou te huware ki toku mata.
They abhor me—have put themselves far from me, and, from my face, have not withheld—spittle!
11 Kua oti hoki tana aho te wewete e ia, a e whakatupuria kinotia ana ahau e ia, a kua tukua e ratou te paraire i toku aroaro.
Because, my girdle, he had loosened and had humbled me, therefore, the bridle—in my presence, cast they off;
12 I te taha ki matau ka ara te marea; taia ana e ratou oku waewae, a akina ana nga ara o a ratou whakangaromanga ki ahau.
On my right hand, the young brood rose up, —My feet, they thrust aside, and cast up against me their earthworks of destruction;
13 E taka kino ana ratou i toku ara, e whakatupu ana i te he moku, a kahore he hoa mahi mo ratou.
They brake up my path, —My engulfing ruin, they helped forward, unaided;
14 Rite tonu ki te wai nui e pakaru mai ana to ratou haerenga mai: i taua whakangaromanga nei, huri mai ana ratou ki runga ki ahau:
As through a wide breach, came they on, with a crashing noise, they rolled themselves along.
15 Kua tahuri mai nga whakawehi ki ahau, e aru ana ratou i toku whakaaro rangatira ano he hau; ko te whakahauora moku, pahemo ke ana ano he kapua.
There are turned upon me terrors, —Chased away as with a wind, is mine abundance, and, as a cloud, hath passed away my prosperity.
16 Na inaianei kua maringi toku wairua i roto i ahau: mau pu ahau i nga ra o te tangi.
Now, therefore, over myself, my soul poureth itself out, There seize me days of affliction:
17 I te po e werohia ana oku wheua i roto i ahau; kahore hoki he okiokinga o nga mamae e ngau nei i ahau.
Night, boreth, my bones, all over me, —and, my sinews, find no rest;
18 He kaha nui no toku mate i ahua ke ai toku kakahu; e awhi nei i ahau, e penei ana me te whiri o toku koti.
Most effectually, is my skin disfigured, —Like the collar of my tunic, it girdeth me about:
19 Kua maka ahau e ia ki te paru, kua rite ahau ki te puehu, ki te pungarehu.
He hath cast me into the mire, and I have become like dust and ashes.
20 E tangi ana ahau ki a koe, heoi kahore koe e whakao mai ki ahau; e tu ana, heoi ka titiro kau mai koe ki ahau.
I cry out for help unto thee, and thou dost not answer, I stand still, and thou dost gaze at me;
21 Kua huri ke, kua kino tau mahi ki ahau: ko te kaha o tou ringa kei te tukino i ahau.
Thou art turned to become a cruel one unto me, With the might of thy hand, thou assailest me;
22 Kua hapainga ake ahau e koe ki te hau, a meinga ana tera e koe hei hoiho moku; a whakamotitia iho ahau e koe i roto i te tupuhi.
Thou liftest up me to the wind, thou carriest me away, and the storm maketh me faint;
23 E mohio ana hoki ahau tera ahau e kawea e koe ki te mate, ki te whare hoki i whakaritea mo te hunga ora katoa.
For I know that, unto death, thou wilt bring me back, even unto the house of meeting for every one living.
24 E kore ano ia tona ringa e totoro iho ki te urupa; ahakoa hei mate mona ka mea ia ki te karanga, he whakaaro ki enei mea.
Only, against a heap of ruins, will one not thrust a hand! Surely, when one is in calamity—for that very reason, is there an outcry for help.
25 Kihai ianei ahau i tangi ki te tangata he mate nei tona? kihai ranei toku wairua i pouri ki te rawakore?
Verily I wept, for him whose lot was hard, Grieved was my soul, for the needy.
26 I ahau i tatari ai ki te pai, heoi kua tae mai te kino; tumanako atu ana ahau ki te marama, heoi kua tae mai te pouri.
Surely, for good, I looked, but there came in evil, And I waited for light, but there came in darkness;
27 Ko oku whekau, me te mea e koropupu ana, te ata takoto; haukotia mai ana ahau e nga ra o te tangi.
I boiled within me, and rested not, There confronted me—days of affliction;
28 E haereere pouri ana ahau, kahore he ra; ko taku whakatikanga ake i roto i te whakaminenga, ka karanga awhina.
In gloom, I walked along, without sun, I arose—in the convocation, I cried out for help;
29 Hei teina ahau ki nga tarakona, hei hoa mo nga ruru.
A brother, became I to the brutes that howl, and a companion to the birds that screech:
30 Ko toku kiri mangu tonu, e ngahoro ana i ahau, kaia ana oku wheua i te wera.
My skin, turned black, and peeled off me, and, my bones, burned with heat:
31 No reira i tahuri ke ai taku hapa ki te tangi, me taku okana ki te reo o te hunga e uhunga ana.
Thus is attuned to mourning—my lyre, and my flute, to the noise of them who weep.
