Wetin make my soul dey weak? Wetin make my heart nor happy at-all? But I go put my hope for God hand! I go praiz am again, bikos na-im bi my Savior and God!
Dem go bi like house wey pesin hide put bikos of heavy rain. Dem go bi like wota wey dey rush for desert; like big rock wey en shadow kover empty land.
God sey, “My Jerusalem; di town wey dey sofa and nor get help; di place wey nor get who go konfort am. I go use stones wey dear well-well take build una foundashon again.