24 Instead make I chop, I dey kry and my pain dey pour kom out like wota.
“I won die naw; bikos na so-so pains full my days.
Pipol wey dey sick nor fit even chop di food wey sweet well-well.
I nor fit tosh dat kind food, bikos e dey make mi sick.
Nor look mi again, make Yu leave mi alone, so dat I go swallow my own spit.
Na ashes I dey chop as food and my tear dey rush enter my drink,
Wen I nor gri konfess my sins, my body kon dey die go and I kon dey kry with pain.
I don taya and my own don finish. I dey kry from my heart, bikos of all di pain for my body.
Yu don make us dey chop sorrow like food kon drink tears wey full bucket.
Dem dey sofa and make us fear. Wi won si God, so dat E go save us from di opreshon and bad tins wey wi dey do, but e nor gri work.
I kry well-well make E help mi, but God nor gri ansa mi.
Afta dem don gada for Mizpa, dem kon draw wota pour put for God front. Dem nor chop for dat day and dem kon konfess all dia sins for der dey sey, “Wi know sey wi don sin against God.” So Samuel pray for Israel pipol for Mizpa.