Psalms 127

1 Orin fún ìgòkè. Ti Solomoni. Bí kò ṣe pé Olúwa bá kọ́ ilé náà àwọn tí ń kọ́ ọ ń ṣiṣẹ́ lásán ni; bí kò ṣe pé Olúwa bá pa ìlú mọ́, olùṣọ́ jí lásán.

A song of ascents, of Solomon. Unless Yahweh builds the house, they work uselessly, those who build it. Unless Yahweh guards the city, the watchman stands guard uselessly.

2 Asán ni fún ẹ̀yin ti ẹ dìde ní kùtùkùtù láti pẹ́ dùbúlẹ̀, láti jẹ oúnjẹ làálàá; bẹ́ẹ̀ ni ó ń fi ìre fún olùfẹ́ rẹ̀ lójú ọ̀run.

It is useless for you to rise up early, to come home late, or to eat the bread of hard work, for Yahweh provides for his beloved as they sleep.

3 Kíyèsi i, àwọn ọmọ ni ìní Olúwa: ọmọ inú sì ni èrè rẹ̀.

See, children are a heritage from Yahweh, and the fruit of the womb is a reward from him.

4 Bí ọfà ti rí ní ọwọ́ alágbára, bẹ́ẹ̀ ni àwọn ọmọ èwe.

Like arrows in the hand of a warrior, so are the children of one's youth.

5 Ìbùkún ni fún ọkùnrin náà tí apó rẹ̀ kún fún wọn; ojú kì yóò tì wọ́n, ṣùgbọ́n wọn yóò ṣẹ́gun àwọn ọ̀tá ní ẹnu-ọ̀nà.

How blessed is the man that has his quiver full of them. He will not be put to shame when he confronts his enemies in the gate.