Breeze from nort, make yu wake-up! Breeze from sout, make yu blow my gardin kon spread yor scent round am. My love, make yu kom my gardin kon taste en betta fruit.
Bikos di place where ship dey pak put wen dem si, nor good for kold weda; some for di pipol kon gri sey make wi dey go. Dem dey hope sey wi go fit rish Foenix, wey dey Krete, wey face sout-west and nort-west, so dat wi go fit spend kold sizin for der.
Afta dem don stay without food for many days, Paul stand for dia front kon sey, “My pipol, if to sey una listin to mi wen I sey make wi nor komot for Krete, wi for nor si all dis wahala.