Psalms 42
1 To him that excelleth. A Psalme to give instruction, committed to the sonnes of Korah. As the harte brayeth for the riuers of water, so panteth my soule after thee, O God.
Ya Mukulu wa Bayimbi: Zabbuli ya Batabani ba Koola. Ng’empeewo bw’ewejjawejja olw’amazzi, n’emmeeme yange bw’etyo bwe wejjawejja ku lulwo, Ayi Katonda.
2 My soule thirsteth for God, euen for the liuing God: when shall I come and appeare before the presence of God?
Emmeeme yange eyaayaanira Katonda, Katonda omulamu. Ndigenda ddi ne nsisinkana Katonda?
3 My teares haue bin my meate day and night, while they dayly say vnto me, Where is thy God?
Nkaabirira Mukama emisana n’ekiro. Amaziga gange gabadde emmere yange emisana n’ekiro, abantu ne baŋŋamba nti, “Katonda wo ali ludda wa?”
4 When I remembred these things, I powred out my very heart, because I had gone with the multitude, and ledde them into the House of God with the voyce of singing, and prayse, as a multitude that keepeth a feast.
Bino mbijjukira nga nfuka emmeeme yange nga bwe nagendanga n’ekibiina ekinene, ne nkulembera ennyiriri z’abantu empanvu, nga tugenda mu nnyumba ya Katonda, nga tuyimba mu ddoboozi ery’omwanguka n’okwebaza mu kibiina ekijaguza.
5 Why art thou cast downe, my soule, and vnquiet within me? waite on God: for I will yet giue him thankes for the helpe of his presence.
Lwaki oweddemu amaanyi ggwe emmeeme yange? Lwaki otabusetabuse mu nda yange? Essuubi lyo liteeke mu Katonda, kubanga natenderezanga omulokozi wange era Katonda wange; ye mubeezi wange.
6 My God, my soule is cast downe within me, because I remember thee, from the land of Iorden, and Hermonim, and from the mount Mizar.
Ayi Katonda wange, emmeeme yange yennyise, yeeraliikiridde; naye nkujjukira olw’ebyo bye wakola mu nsi ya Yoludaani ne ku nsozi engulumivu eza Kalumooni ne ku Lusozi Mizali.
7 One deepe calleth another deepe by the noyse of thy water spoutes: all thy waues and thy floods are gone ouer me.
Obuziba bukoowoola obuziba, olw’okuwuluguma kw’ebiyiriro amayengo n’amasingisira go bimpiseeko.
8 The Lord will graunt his louing kindenesse in the day, and in the night shall I sing of him, euen a prayer vnto the God of my life.
Mukama alaga okwagala kwe emisana n’ekiro ne muyimbira oluyimba lwe; y’essaala eri Katonda w’obulamu bwange.
9 I wil say vnto God, which is my rocke, Why hast thou forgotten mee? why goe I mourning, when the enemie oppresseth me?
Ŋŋamba Katonda, olwazi lwange nti, “Lwaki onneerabidde? Lwaki ŋŋenda nkungubaga olw’okujoogebwa abalabe bange?”
10 My bones are cut asunder, while mine enemies reproch me, saying dayly vnto me, Where is thy God?
Mbonyaabonyezebwa ng’abalabe bange bancocca, nga bwe bagamba buli kiseera nti, “Katonda wo ali ludda wa?”
11 Why art thou cast downe, my soule? and why art thou disquieted within mee? waite on God: for I wil yet giue him thankes: he is my present helpe, and my God.
Lwaki wennyise Ayi ggwe emmeeme yange? Lwaki otabusetabuse mu nda yange? Weesigenga Katonda, kubanga nnaamutenderezanga, Omulokozi wange era ye Katonda wange.
