Psalms 87

87 ¹ Im don build im city for on top di holy mountains; ² our Papa love di gates of Zion pass all di places wey Jacob dey stay. ³ Dem dey talk fine-fine tins about you, city of our Papa. Selah

⁴ “I go write Egypt and Babylon join dem wey sabi me; look, Philistia and Tyre, plus Cush — dis one, na dia dem born am.” ^a a v4 For here “Rahab” na poetic name for Egypt, no be di woman of Jericho — e dey call Israel im old oppressor among di nations wey our Papa dey count as dem born am for im city. ⁵ And about Zion dem go talk say, “Dis one and dat one, na dem born dem inside am,” and di Most High imsef go make am stand strong. ⁶ our Papa go count, as im dey register di people, “Dis one, na dia dem born am.” Selah

⁷ Dem wey dey sing and dem wey dey dance, all of dem dey talk say, “All my springs dey inside you.”