My Hiding Place
For di director of music. Na David own.
11 1 Na for my Papa I don hide. How you take fit tell my soul, “Comot go your mountain like bird”? 2 Bicos look — di wicked people dey bend dem bow; dem don set dem arrow for di string, so dem go fit shoot from di darkness at di people wey get correct heart. 3 Wen dem don scatter di foundation, wetin di correct-and-holy person fit do? 4 Our Papa dey inside im holy temple; di throne of our Papa dey for heaven. Im eyes dey watch; im look dey check di children of man well well. 5 Our Papa dey check di correct-and-holy person, but im soul hate di wicked person and di one wey love to do wickedness. 6 For di wicked people head im go rain trap — fire and sulfur and hot wind wey dey burn go be wetin fill dem cup. 7 Bicos our Papa na correct-and-holy; im love di correct-and-holy tins wey person dey do. Di people wey dey correct go see im face. a a v7 Di deepest reward wey dis psalm talk no be safety, na to see di face of our Papa — di people wey dey correct belong wit am, and to dey wit am na di whole point.
