But as una nor gri listin, I dey kry for sekret, bikos of una pride; I go kry well-well till I nor fit kry again, bikos dem don karry God pipol go as slave.”
So make wi liedan with shame! Make awa disgrace kover us. Wi and awa grand-grand papa don sin against di Oga awa God. Since wi dey yong kon rish naw, wi nor gri obey di Oga awa God.”
I still sey, “My pipol! Make una wear sak klot and roll for groun. Make una kry well-well and mourn like sey una only pikin just die. Bikos very soon, doz wiked sojas go kom distroy all of us.”
So, Jerusalem pipol! Make una mourn and kut una hair. Make una sing burial song on-top evry hill, bikos God sey, ‘I go rijet and forget dis pipol, bikos dem don make mi vex.’ ”
I wish sey my head bi like well wey wota full and my eyes bi like fountain where wota for dey rush kom out, den I go kry well-well both day and nite for my pipol wey dem kill.
So I kon sey, “I go kry and mourn for di grass wey dey on-top mountin, bikos dem don dry and nobody dey travel pass der again. Dem nor dey hear fawol nois for der again and even bird and wild animals, don fly komot der.”
I don kry sotey wota nor gri kom out from my eye again; my heart don break. I don taya and e dey pain bi wen I si how dem distroy my pipol and how shidren dey faint anyhow for di town.
Wetin I go fit tok? Who don ever si dis kind sofa before? Wetin I go fit take kompare yu, Jerusalem? How I go fit take konfort yu? Bikos di wound wey yu wound, deep like sea. Na who go fit heal yu?
Jerusalem wall wey fine well-well, make yu kry give God! Both day and nite, make di wota from yor eye dey flow like river! Make yu nor rest or stop to kry!
So God wey get pawa sey, “For di town, pipol go dey kry and mourn for evriwhere. Dem go sey make farmers kry for dia land, den dem go pay pipol wey go kom mourn with dem.