Blessed are they who consider the poor, the withered; In their time of trouble, the Lord will deliver. The Lord preserves them, They shall be blessed then, The Lord keeps them alive. Throughout the land below the skies. They will be delivered — not made to bend the knee, To the wicked, to the proud, to the will of enemies. The Lord will strengthen sickly ones languish in their bed: Thou wilt strengthen them therein until their sickness has fled. I said, Lord my god be merciful, be merciful to me, Heal me up, heal my soul, for I sin against thee. Mine enemies speak evil of me, Evil is their wish. “When will he die?” they ask, “and his name perish?” If he come to me, he speaketh vanity: his heart gathers up to itself iniquity. When he goes abroad, he speaks iniquity to all. They hate me and together plan my hurt, plan my fall. They say evil disease cleaves close unto me: But lies that thus are spoken rise no more eternally. Even one who is my dear and familiar friend, You I trust and break my bread, you betray me still again. But thou, be merciful unto me, O Lord, again and raise me up, that I may requite them. By this I know that thou favourest me, because triumph over us eludes my enemy, And as for me (you uphold), as for me, You uphold me in my integrity. You set me forever before thy face so all is well. Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel, From everlasting! And to everlasting! Amen, and Amen!! Amen yet again!
