المَزامِير 144

١ 1 مَزْمُورٌ لِدَاوُدَ مُبَارَكٌ الرَّبُّ صَخْرَتِي، الَّذِي يُدَرِّبُ يَدَيَّ عَلَى الْقِتَالِ وَأَصَابِعِي عَلَى الْحَرْبِ.

By David. Blessed [is] Jehovah my rock, who is teaching My hands for war, my fingers for battle.

٢ 2 هُوَ رَحْمَتِي وَمَعْقِلِي، حِصْنِي وَمُنْقِذِي، تُرْسِي وَمُتَّكَلِي، وَالْمُخْضِعُ شَعْبِي لِي.

My kind one, and my bulwark, My tower, and my deliverer, My shield, and in whom I have trusted, Who is subduing my people under me!

٣ 3 يَا رَبُّ، مَنْ هُوَ الإِنْسَانُ حَتَّى تَعْبَأَ بِهِ وَابْنُ الإِنْسَانِ حَتَّى تَكْتَرِثَ لَهُ؟

Jehovah, what [is] man that Thou knowest him? Son of man, that Thou esteemest him?

٤ 4 إِنَّمَا الإِنْسَانُ أَشْبَهُ بِنَفْخَةٍ. أَيَّامُهُ كَظِلٍّ عَابِرٍ.

Man to vanity hath been like, His days [are] as a shadow passing by.

٥ 5 يَا رَبُّ طَأْطِئْ سَمَاوَاتِكَ وَانْزِلْ. الْمِسِ الْجِبَالَ فَتُدَخِّنَ.

Jehovah, incline Thy heavens and come down, Strike against mountains, and they smoke.

٦ 6 أَرْسِلْ بُرُوقَكَ وَبَدِّدْهُمْ، أَطْلِقْ سِهَامَكَ النَّارِيَّةَ وَأَزْعِجْهُمْ.

Send forth lightning, and scatter them, Send forth Thine arrows, and trouble them,

٧ 7 مُدَّ يَدَيْكَ مِنَ الْعَلاءِ. أَنْجِدْنِي وَأَنْقِذْنِي مِنْ لُجَجِ الْمِيَاهِ، مِنْ أَيْدِي الْغُرَبَاءِ،

Send forth Thy hand from on high, Free me, and deliver me from many waters, From the hand of sons of a stranger,

٨ 8 الَّذِينَ نَطَقَتْ أَفْوَاهُهُمْ بِالكَذِبِ، وَيَمِينُهُمْ يَمِينُ زُورٍ.

Because their mouth hath spoken vanity, And their right hand [is] a right hand of falsehood.

٩ 9 يَا اللهُ، أُرَنِّمُ لَكَ تَرْنِيمَةً جَدِيدَةً. أَشْدُو لَكَ عَلَى رَبَابٍ ذَاتِ عَشَرَةِ أَوْتَارٍ.

O God, a new song I sing to Thee, On a psaltery of ten strings I sing praise to Thee.

١٠ 10 يَا مَنْ تُعْطِي الْمُلُوكَ خَلاصاً، وَتُنْقِذُ دَاوُدَ عَبْدَكَ مِنَ السَّيْفِ الْقَاتِلِ.

Who is giving deliverance to kings, Who is freeing David His servant from the sword of evil.

١١ 11 أَنْجِدْنِي وَأَنْقِذْنِي مِنْ أَيْدِي الْغُرَبَاءِ، الَّذِينَ تَنْطِقُ أَفْوَاهُهُمْ بِالْكَذِبِ، وَيَمِينُهُمْ يَمِينُ زُورٍ.

Free me, and deliver me From the hand of sons of a stranger, Because their mouth hath spoken vanity, And their right hand [is] a right hand of falsehood,

١٢ 12 حَتَّى يَكُونَ أَبْنَاؤُنَا كَأَغْرَاسٍ نَامِيَةٍ فِي حَدَاثَتِهَا، وَبَنَاتُنَا مِثْلَ أَعْمِدَةِ زَوَايَا الْقُصُورِ الْمَنْحُوتَةِ،

Because our sons [are] as plants, Becoming great in their youth, Our daughters as hewn stones, Polished — the likeness of a palace,

١٣ 13 وَمَخَازِنُنَا مَلآنَةً تَفِيضُ بِشَتَّى الأَصْنَافِ، وَأَغْنَامُنَا تُنْتِجُ أُلُوفاً، وَعَشَرَاتِ الأُلُوفِ فِي مَرَاعِينَا،

Our garners [are] full, bringing out from kind to kind, Our flocks are bringing forth thousands, Ten thousands in our out-places,

١٤ 14 وَأَبْقَارُنَا حَامِلَةً، وَلَا يَكُونَ هُنَاكَ اقْتِحَامُ غَازٍ، وَلَا هُجُومُ عَدُوٍّ، وَلَا شَكْوَى خَصْمٍ فِي شَوَارِعِنَا.

Our oxen are carrying, there is no breach, And there is no outgoing, And there is no crying in our broad places.

١٥ 15 طُوبَى لِشَعْبٍ هَكَذا حَالَتُهُ. طُوبَى لِشَعْبٍ إِلَهُهُ الرَّبُّ.

O the happiness of the people that is thus, O the happiness of the people whose God [is] Jehovah!