Waiata 127

1 He waiata; he pikitanga. Na Horomona. Ki te kore e hanga e Ihowa te whare, he maumau mahi ta nga kaihanga; ki te kore e tiakina e Ihowa te pa, maumau mataara noa te kaitiaki.

A song of ascents. Of Solomon. Unless the Lord builds the house, those who build it labour in vain. Unless the Lord guards the city, the watchman wakes in vain.

2 He maumau to koutou ara wawe, to koutou noho roa i te po, ta koutou kai i te taro o te mauiui: ko tana moe tena ka homai nei ki tana e aroha ai.

In vain you rise early, and finish so late, and so eat sorrow’s bread; for he cares for his loved ones in their sleep.

3 Na he taonga pumau na Ihowa nga tamariki, ko nga hua ano o te kopu tana utu.

Children are a gift of the Lord, the fruit of the womb, a reward.

4 E rite ana ki nga pere i te ringaringa o te tangata kaha te whanau o te taitamarikitanga.

Like arrows wielded by warriors, are the children of youth.

5 Ka hari te tangata kua ki nei tana papa pere i a ratou: e kore ratou e whakama, ina korero ki o ratou hoariri i te kuwaha.

Happy the man who has filled his quiver full of them. He will not be ashamed when he speaks with enemies in the gate.