Job Chapter 16
Job Complain Again
- So Job ansa, con tok sey,
- “I don hear plenty of dis kain tins before: all of una wey dey cool me down don fraustrate.
- Abi una mumu tok no dey finish? Or wetin dey ginger una wey una dey ansa me like dis wit full-mind?
- Me sef fit tok like una: if to sey una souls nahin dey for where my soul dey, I fit carry plenty words against una, con shake my head for una.
- But if na me, I go ginger una wit my mouth, and di movement of my lips go make una calm down from sadness.
- Notin wey I go tok wey go epp, and if I dey silent—e no go heal my pain.
- But now he don make me taya: you don scata my family.
- You don make all my skin dey squeeze and nahin be di witness against me; becos I don thin finish, pipo con dey take am as evidence of my sin.
- Baba-God hate me and he dey tear me wit hin vex. He dey bite hin teeth wit vex against me; and he dey shuuk me wit hin eyes.
- Pipo dey laff me and dey yab me. Dem dey slap my face wit disgrace. Plenty pipo dey gada togeda to attack me.
- Baba-God don put me for evil pipo hands, and he don put me for wicked pipo hands.
- I bin dey live in peace but he don break me to pieces, he don carry my neck, con shake me to pieces. Naso he con target me.
- Hin snipers wit arrow don gada round me. Hin arrow dey shuuk me wit no mercy. Di ground dey wet wit my blood.
- He dey always nack me wit wound upon wounds, and he dey attack me like warrior.
- I don sew sachcloth for my skin, and I don rub my horn for dust.
- My face don dull, becos of cry-cry, and di shadow of death dey on top of di hair of my eyes;
- even though I neva do any wrong tin and my prayer dey pure sef.
- Oh earth, no hide di wrongs tins wey I don experience, no let my cry for justice dey silent.
- Even now my witness dey for heaven, and my evidence dey for up-up.
- My padi dey yab me, but my eyes dey cry to Baba-God.
- I need pesin to epp me settle my case wit Baba-God, as pesin take dey beg for hin padi.
- Afta some years don come, I go komot, and I no go come back again.