Tongue Wey Dem Sharpen Like Sword
For di director of music. Na psalm wey David write.
The weapon here na mouth — tongue wey dem sharpen like sword, bitter word wey dem shoot from hiding place at person wey no get fault, by people wey dey plan and sure say nobody fit see the plan. One arrow from our Papa answer am, and their own tongue bring dem down.
64 1My Papa, hear my voice as I dey cry my complain; guard my life comot from di fear wey my enemy dey put. 2Hide me comot from di secret plan wey bad people dey plan, from di noisy crowd of dem wey dey do evil. 3Dem dey sharpen dem tongue like sword; dem dey aim dem bitter word like arrow, 4so dem fit shoot from hiding place at di person wey no do anything wrong; dem dey shoot am sharp-sharp and dem no dey fear. 5Dem hold dem evil plan tight; dem dey talk about how dem go hide trap and dem dey say, “Who go see dem?”
6Dem dey plan wickedness and dem dey say, “We don perfect one plan wey we set well-well.” Di inside thought and heart of person deep well-well. 7But our Papa go shoot dem with arrow; sharp-sharp dem go get wound. 8Dem go make dem stumble; dem own tongue go turn against dem; everybody wey see dem go shake dem head.
9Den everybody go fear; dem go announce di work of our Papa and dem go think well about wetin He don do. 10Make di correct-and-holy people rejoice for our Papa and hide dem-self for Am; make everybody wey dey correct for heart shout for joy!
