Word Wey Concern Damascus
Damascus turn heap of ruin, and Israel glory reduce reach two or three olive for top of tree wey dem don beat. Di main point show for middle: people finally look up to di One wey make dem, our Papa, instead of wetin dem hand make. Nations dey roar like sea, den dem disappear.
17 1Message wey concern Damascus. Look—Damascus no go be city again; e go turn to heap of rubbish wey don scatter. 2Dem don abandon di cities of Aroer; dem go leave dem for di flocks, wey go lie down and nobody go frighten dem. 3Di strong fortress go vanish from Ephraim, and di kingdom go comot from Damascus; and di remnant of Aram go be like di glory of di children of Israel, na so di Papa wey get di army of heaven talk.
4For dat day di glory of Jacob go come low, and di fat of im body go waste away. 5E go be like when person wey dey harvest gather di grain wey stand and use im arm cut di head of grain; e go be like when person dey pick di remain grain for di Valley of Rephaim. 6But small go remain, like when dem beat olive tree: two or three ripe olive for di very top, four or five for di branches wey dey bear fruit, na so di Papa of Israel talk. a a v6 People wey dey farm olive dey harvest by using long stick beat di branches make di fruit fall; but small olive for di very top dey always remain wey hand no fit reach.
7For dat day people go look di One wey make dem, and dia eye go turn to di Holy One of Israel—our Papa. b b v7 Di Holy One of Israel na di special name wey Isaiah dey use call our Papa — e dey name am as di holy God wey don tie imself to people wey dey always forget am. 8Dem no go look di altars, di work of dia hand, and dem no go gaze wetin dia own finger make—di Asherah poles and di altars wey dem dey burn incense. 9For dat day dia strong cities go be like di places wey dem abandon for di bush and hilltop, wey dem leave when di children of Israel come; and everywhere go turn to waste. 10Because you don forget di Papa wey be your salvation, and you no remember di Rock wey be your hiding place. So, even though you plant fine garden and set cutting from foreign vine, 11and even though for di day wey you plant dem, dem begin sprout, and by morning wetin you plant don blossom, still di harvest go vanish for a day of grief and pain wey no get cure. 12Ah, di uproar of plenty people—dem dey roar like di roaring of di sea! Di rumbling of nations—dem dey rumble like di rumbling of mighty water! 13Di nations dey rumble like di rumbling of plenty water, but our Papa go rebuke dem, and dem go run go far, wind go drive dem like chaff for di hills, like dust wey dey whirl before storm. 14For evening, sudden terror! Before morning, dem don disappear. Na dis be di portion of dem wey dey plunder us, di share of dem wey dey loot us.
