Dia curse dey pain and e dey make my heart kut; I dey look for who go tell mi sorry, but I nor si. I dey find who go konfort mi, but I still nor si anybody.
Den I tink of all di wiked tins wey dey happen for dis world. I si pipol wey dem dey opress, dey kry and nobody dey to help dem. Nobody dey to save dem from doz pawaful men wey dey opress dem.
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.
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.”
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.”
Bikos deat don klimb pass awa windows. E don enter awa house wey dem guide well. E don kill awa shidren wey dey play for di street and di yong men wey dey di town centre.”
E nor keep ensef klean or tink of wetin go happen to am. Naw, e dey inside gutta and nobody won bring am out. So e kry kon sey, “Oga God, make Yu si wetin dey happen to mi; my enemies don win mi.”
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.
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!