My Own Padi Betray Me
For di director of music: with instrument wey get string. Na wisdom psalm of David.
Terror and trembling; di psalmist wish say e get dove wing to fly go wilderness. Di pain wey pass no be di violence wey full di city but di person wey be im equal, di close friend wey waka with am go our Papa house and break faith.
55 1Hear my prayer, my Papa, and no hide yourself from my cry for mercy. 2Listen to me and answer me; I no dey rest for my complain, and I dey groan, 3because of di voice of di enemy, because of di way di wicked people dey press me down. Dem dey bring trouble come down for my head, and with vex dem dey hold grudge against me. 4My heart dey twist inside me; di fear of death don fall on me. 5Fear and shaking body come cover me, and horror don swallow me. 6And I talk sey, “Ah, if only I get wing like dove! I for fly comot go find rest.
7Yes, I for waka go far far place; I for hide for inside di wilderness. a a v7 Selah: na musical or worship word wey im meaning no clear well, e fit mean sey make person stop small take think, or na music-break. 8I for rush go my hiding place, comot from di wind wey dey blow strong and di storm.” 9Confuse dem, Sovereign Papa; scatter their talk, because I dey see wahala and fight for inside di city. 10Day and night dem dey waka round im wall; wickedness and trouble dey inside am. 11Destruction dey im middle; oppression and lie no dey ever comot from im street. 12Because no be enemy dey insult me—that one I for fit bear; no be person wey hate me dey raise imself over me—from am I for fit hide. 13But na you, person wey be like me, my companion and my close padi. 14We wey bin dey share sweet fellowship together, wey dey waka with di crowd go our Papa house. 15Make death come catch dem; make dem go down enter grave while dem still dey alive, because evil dey for their house, for their very middle. 16But I dey call my Papa, and my Papa go save me. 17Evening and morning and for afternoon I dey cry out and dey groan, and E dey hear my voice. 18E don redeem my soul with peace from di battle wey dem bin dey fight against me, even as plenty people bin stand against me.
19Our Papa go hear and go bring dem low—E wey sidon for throne from di very old times. Because dem no dey ever change, dem no get fear for our Papa. 20Di person wey betray don raise im hand against di people wey dey for peace with am; e don break im Covenant. 21Im mouth talk soft pass butter, but war dey for im heart; im words soft pass oil, but na sword wey dem don draw. 22Put your load for our Papa hand, and E go hold you up; E no go ever let di correct-and-holy person shake. 23But you, my Papa, go bring dem come down enter di pit of destruction; people wey dey shed blood and dey do betray no go live reach half their days. But I go trust for you.
