so I tell di king, “My king, make yu live forever! Wetin nor go make my face look like who dey sick wen e bi sey dem skata and burn di gates for di town where dem beri my grand-grand papa put.”
Bikos dem don sey make dem distroy, both mi and my pipol! If to sey dem just sell us as slaves, I nor for tell yu about am, but dem go soon kill all of us finish.
Wen di thirtint day for di twelft mont (wey bi Adar mont) rish, di day wey dem suppose do wetin di king tok. Na dis day Jew enemies tink sey dem go distroy Jew pipol finish. Instead na Jew pipol kon distroy dia enemies.
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.