A Song for di Sabbath
A psalm. A song for di Sabbath day.
Sabbath song about different kind of time. Wicked people dey grow quick like grass and dem don go; righteous people dey grow small-small like palm and cedar, dem still dey bear fruit and stay green for old age, because of where dem plant dem — we Papa courts.
92 1E good make we give thanks to our Papa, make we sing praise to your name, You wey High Pass All, 2make we announce your Covenant love wey no dey change for morning, and your faithfulness for di whole nights, 3for di ten-string lute and for di harp, with di sweet sound of di lyre. 4Because you don make my heart glad, our Papa, by wetin you do; for di work wey your hand don do, I dey sing for joy. 5How your work take big reach, our Papa! Your thought deep well well! 6Di man wey no get sense no dey know, and di foolish person no fit understand dis one:
7Even as di wicked people dey sprout like grass and all di people wey dey do evil dey blossom, dem go end up for destruction wey no dey finish. 8But you, our Papa, dey up high forever. 9Because look am, your enemies, our Papa—look am, your enemies go perish; all di people wey dey do evil go scatter. 10But you don lift my horn up high like wild cow; dem don anoint me with fresh oil. 11My eyes don see my enemies wey dey watch me; my ears don hear di doom of di wicked people wey rise against me. 12Di people wey dey follow di correct-and-holy way dey blossom like di palm tree; dem dey grow like cedar for Lebanon. 13Since dem plant dem for di house of our Papa, dem dey blossom for di courtyard of our Papa. 14Dem still dey bear fruit even for old age; dem dey stay fresh and green, 15to announce say our Papa dey straight; na my rock be dis, and no bad thing dey inside am.
