Job.
31.
“I wen make one strong promise, Dat no ways I goin check out any young wahine an like sleep wit her, 
Cuz I tink, ‘Wat anybody goin get from da God Up Dea? Da God In Da Sky Dat Get All Da Powa, wat he goin give um?’ 
Da peopo dat do bad kine stuff, dey goin come wipe out. Da guys dat do wass wrong, bad tings goin happen to dem. 
God see eryting I do. He watch ery step I make. 
“Fo shua, I no live da way dat worth notting, An I no rush fo bulai somebody. 
Den let God weigh me wit da kine scales Dat show if I tell da trut, o I bulai. He goin know dat I no mo da blame fo make lidat. 
I neva tell ‘Laytas’ to da way God like fo me go. I neva like get all da tings I look at. My hands neva grab someting dey not suppose to touch. 
I no make lidat. But if I wen do dat, Den I like fo odda peopo eat da food dat I wen plant, An fo somebody pull up all my plants! 
“I neva get da hots fo one wahine dat not my wife. I neva sneak by da door fo fool aroun wit one wahine dat live nea me. 
If I wen do dat kine bad stuff, Den mo betta my wife come one slave Fo grind da wheat an barley fo anodda guy. An mo betta odda guys sleep wit her. 
Cuz if I do dat shame kine stuff, Az one criminal kine ting An da judge guys gotta punish me. 
Az jalike one fire dat burn inside peopo an make dem wipe out. If get dat kine fire, goin burn up all da food dat I wen plant, all da way down to da roots. But I not dat kine guy. 
“If I no do da right kine ting fo my worka guys an wahines, An dey squawk agains me, 
Wat I goin do wen God poin finga me, aah? Wat I goin tell him wen he aks me how come I wen make lidat? 
Da same God dat wen make me inside my muddah, he make da worka guys too. Da same God make all us peopo inside oua muddahs. 
“If I neva help da peopo dat no mo notting, O if I neva make da widows tink I no goin help dem, 
If I wen stash my food ony fo me, An neva give um to da kids dat no mo faddah— Az not right! 
But dass not how was! From da time I stay young, I raise da kids dat no mo faddah, jalike I was dea faddah, An from young time, I take kea da widows. 
If I see somebody dying cuz dey no mo clotheses, O if I see one guy need stuff an no mo clotheses, 
I erytime make dem warm wit da wool from my sheeps, An dey tell good tings bout me cuz a dat. 
If I wen put up my hand fo vote agains da kids dat no mo faddah, Cuz I know da odda leada guys goin stay my side if I no help da kids, 
Den I like my arm fall down from my shoulda, An mo betta broke off from da elbow! 
Cuz I stay sked dat God goin wipe me out fo no help da kids! He real awesome, an I stay sked a him. Az why I no can do bad kine tings! 
“I no trus my gold. An I no figga dat I stay strong an okay cuz a my gold. 
I no feel real good inside cuz I get plenny rich kine stuffs, An cuz I tink dat was me wen bus ass fo get all dat. 
I no tink bout da sun cuz a how da sun shine, O bout da moon, cuz a how da moon move awesome kine. 
I no go down in front dem jus cuz dey awesome, Fo show dem love an respeck, But I no tell nobody I do dat. 
If I wen make lidat, Den God Up Dea goin punish me cuz wat I do az wrong, An az right fo him no trus me! But az not how I stay! I neva do notting lidat! 
“If one guy dat hate me get trouble an bad kine stuff happen to him, An I feel good inside an ack jalike I da winna— 
But az not how stay! Me, I neva do notting wrong wen I talk. I no put kahuna on top da guy dat hate me fo him mahke. 
My ohana guys neva tell, ‘No mo enuff fo eat, inside Job house,’ 
An no guy from anodda place eva gotta sleep outside, Cuz I let um sleep inside my place erytime. 
If I cova ova da bad kine stuff dat I do, Jalike plenny peopo hide um— But I no do dat kine stuff! An if I wen know dat I get da blame, An still hide um inside— But I no mo blame! 
You tink I hide wat I do, an stay sked an shaking Wen erybody make big noise bout me?! No ways! You tink I stay sked, cuz my ohana guys tink I no good, So den I no tell notting, an no go outside my house?! Not even! I no make lidat, eva! 
“I like fo somebody lissen me! I like sign one paypa dat tell I neva do notting wrong! I like Da God Dat Get All Da Powa ansa wat I write! I like da One dat poin finga me, write on top one paypa Fo tell wat I wen do dass wrong! 
Fo shua I goin wear dat paypa on top my shoulda. I goin tie um aroun my head, jalike one crown! 
I like tell da one dat lissen, eryting I wen do. I like go in front him jalike I one prince dat get da right fo talk to him. 
“If da land I wen farm yell agains me, So all da place I plow stay wet wit crying, 
If I wen eat up eryting dat grow dea an neva pay, If I wen make da peopo dat live an work dea come all bum out, 
Den I like da thorns come up an not da wheat, An da weeds come up an not da barley!” Dass it, wat Job tell. 
