Isaiah 17
1 Ọ̀rọ̀-ìmọ̀ tí ó kan Damasku: “Kíyèsi i, Damasku kò ní jẹ́ ìlú mọ́ ṣùgbọ́n yóò padà di ààtàn.
The oracle on Damascus, —Lo! Damascus, is to be removed from being a city, And shall become a heap of ruins:
2 Àwọn ìlú Aroeri ni a ó kọ̀sílẹ̀ fún àwọn agbo ẹran tí yóò máa sùn síbẹ̀, láìsí ẹni tí yóò dẹ́rùbà wọ́n.
Forsaken, are the desolate cities, —For flocks, shall they serve, Which shall lie down and have none to make them afraid.
3 Ìlú olódi ni yóò pòórá kúrò ní Efraimu, àti agbára ọba kúrò ní Damasku; àwọn àṣẹ́kù Aramu yóò dá gẹ́gẹ́ bí ògo ti àwọn Israẹli,” ni Olúwa àwọn ọmọ-ogun wí.
Then shall the fortress cease from Ephraim, And the kingdom from Damascus and the remnant of Syria, —Like the glory of the sons of Israel, shall they be, —Declareth Yahweh of hosts.
4 “Ní ọjọ́ náà ni ògo Jakọbu yóò sá; ọ̀rá ara rẹ̀ yóò ṣòfò dànù.
And it shall come to pass in that day, That the glory of Jacob, shall be diminished, And, the fatness of his flesh, shall be wasted;
5 Yóò sì dàbí ìgbà tí olùkórè kó àwọn irúgbìn tí ó dúró jọ tí ó sì ń kórè irúgbìn pẹ̀lú apá rẹ̀— àti gẹ́gẹ́ bí ìgbà tí ènìyàn pa ọkà ní àfonífojì ti Refaimu.
And it shall come to pass—That, as the harvestman gathereth standing corn, And with his arm—the ears, he reapeth, Yea it shall come to pass—That, so, shall he be who gleaneth ears, in the vale of Rephaim;
6 Síbẹ̀síbẹ̀ irúgbìn díẹ̀ yóò ṣẹ́kù, gẹ́gẹ́ bí ìgbà tí a gbọn igi olifi, tí èso olifi méjì tàbí mẹ́ta ṣẹ́kù sórí ẹ̀ka tí ó ga jùlọ, mẹ́rin tàbí márùn-ún lórí ẹ̀ka tí ó so jù,” ni Olúwa wí, àní Ọlọ́run Israẹli.
Yet shall there be left therein, a gleaning. As in the beating of an olive-tree, —Two-three berries in the head of the tree-top, —Four—five, among her fruitful boughs, Declareth Yahweh God of Israel.
7 Ní ọjọ́ náà, àwọn ènìyàn yóò gbójú sókè sí Ẹlẹ́dàá wọn, wọn yóò sì síjú wo Ẹni Mímọ́ Israẹli.
In that day, shall the son of earth look to him that made him, —And his eyes unto the Holy One of Israel, be turned;
8 Wọn kò ní wo àwọn pẹpẹ mọ́, èyí tí í ṣe iṣẹ́ ọwọ́ wọn, wọn kò sì ní kọbi ara sí ère Aṣerah mọ́ tàbí pẹpẹ tùràrí tí ìka ọwọ́ wọn ti ṣe.
And he shall not look unto the altars the work of his own hands, —Nor to what his own fingers have made, shall his eye be turned, Whether Sacred Stems or Sun-pillars.
9 Ní ọjọ́ náà àwọn ìlú alágbára rẹ̀, yóò dàbí ẹ̀ka ìkọ̀sílẹ̀, àti ẹ̀ka téńté òkè tí wọ́n fi sílẹ̀ nítorí àwọn ọmọ Israẹli. Gbogbo wọn yóò sì di ahoro.
In that day, shall his fortified cities become Like a neglected bough and a topmost branch, Which they neglected because of the sons of Israel, —So shall there be desolation.
10 Nítorí ìwọ ti gbàgbé Ọlọ́run ìgbàlà rẹ; tí ìwọ kò sì náání àpáta ìgbàlà rẹ̀, nítorí náà ni ìwọ ti gbin ọ̀gbìn dáradára ìwọ sì tọ́ àjèjì ẹ̀ka sínú rẹ̀.
Because thou didst forget the God of thy salvation, And thy Rock of refuge, thou didst not remember, For this cause, shalt thou plant very pleasant plants, And, the slip of a stranger, shalt thou set:
11 Nítorí náà, bí ẹ tilẹ̀ mú àṣàyàn igi tí ẹ sì gbin àjàrà tí ó ti òkèrè wá, bí ó tilẹ̀ jẹ́ pé ọjọ́ tí ẹ kó wọn jáde ẹ mú wọn hù jáde, àti ní òwúrọ̀ tí ẹ gbìn wọ́n ẹ mú kí wọ́n rúdí, síbẹ̀síbẹ̀ ìkórè kò ní mú nǹkan wá ní ọjọ́ ààrùn àti ìrora tí kò gbóògùn.
In the day when thou plantest, fence thou in, And in the morning, cause thou, thy slip, to blossom, —A harvest will have waved in the day of destiny, and mortal pain.
12 Kíyèsi i, ìrunú àwọn orílẹ̀-èdè— wọ́n ń runú bí ìgbì Òkun! Kíyèsi i, rògbòdìyàn tí ogunlọ́gọ̀ ènìyàn wọ́n bú ramúramù gẹ́gẹ́ bí ariwo odò ńlá!
Alas! the booming of many peoples, Like the booming of the seas, shall they boom, —And the rushing of nations! Like the rushing of mighty waters, shall they rush.
13 Bí ó tilẹ̀ jẹ́ pé àwọn ènìyàn ń bú ramúramù gẹ́gẹ́ bí ìrúmi odò, nígbà tí ó bá wọn wí wọ́n sálọ jìnnà réré, a tì wọ́n lọ gẹ́gẹ́ bí ìyàngbò ní orí òkè, àti gẹ́gẹ́ bí ewéko níwájú ìjì líle.
Though nations like the rushing of many waters, shall rush, Yet shall one rebuke him, And he shall flee far away, —And be chased As the chaff of the mountains before a wind, And as whirling stubble before a storm!
14 Ní aginjù, ìpayà òjijì! Kí ó tó di òwúrọ̀, a ò rí wọn mọ́! Èyí ni ìpín àwọn tí ó jí wa lẹ́rù, àti ìpín àwọn tí ó fi ogun kó wa.
At eventide, lo! terror, Before morning, he is not! This, is the portion of them who plunder us, And the lot of them who make of us a prey.
