9 My own tears don blind my eyes. My God, evriday I dey beg make Yu kom help mi; I lift my hand to Yu make Yu sorry for mi.
But for yu Job! Make yor heart dey rite before yu koll God.
My friends dey tok against mi and I dey kry give God.
My eyes don swell-up bikos of kry; my body don tin like broom.
Wetin God give lite to doz wey nor get tumoro, pipol wey God surround with wahala?
Na ashes I dey chop as food and my tear dey rush enter my drink,
I lift my hands and pray to Yu. Just as dry land dey hongry for rain, na so too I dey hongry to si Yu.
My heart dey beat fast-fast; my pawa don finish and my eye don blind.
Yet, my enemies still dey set trap to kill mi. Pipol wey hate mi dey plan to skata my life and na evriday dem dey plan against mi.
I dey kry both day and nite and na tears bi di only food wey I dey chop and my enemies dey tell mi sey, “Where dat yor God dey sef?”
If wi don rijet awa Oga God kon dey pray to anoda god,
For morning, aftanoon and nite, I dey kry with pain and God hear my vois.
Sofa don make my eyes blind. My eyes dey weak, bikos of my enemies.
Egypt and Ethiopia pipol go dey ready to kom serve God on dia own; nobody go force dem kom.
Make Yu sorry for mi, my Oga God, bikos I dey always koll yor name.
My Oga God wey dey save mi. For day time, I dey kry give Yu and I still dey pray to Yu for nite.
E don tie mi with shain like prisona wey nor get hope to eskape.
God tell mi,
Jesus kon kry.