Psalms 144
1 By David. Blessed be the LORD, my rock, who trains my hands to war, and my fingers to battle—
David’s. Blessed be Yahweh, my Rock, who teacheth my hands to war, my fingers to fight:
2 my loving kindness, my fortress, my high tower, my deliverer, my shield, and he in whom I take refuge, who subdues my people under me.
My lovingkindness and my stronghold, my high tower and my deliverer—mine! My buckler, and he in whom I have sought refuge, —He that subdueth my people under me.
3 LORD, what is man, that you care for him? Or the son of man, that you think of him?
O Yahweh! what is the earthborn, And yet thou hast acknowledged him, —the son of a mortal, And yet thou hast taken account of him:
4 Man is like a breath. His days are like a shadow that passes away.
The earthborn, resembleth, a vapour, his days, are like a passing shadow.
5 Part your heavens, LORD, and come down. Touch the mountains, and they will smoke.
O Yahweh! bow thy heavens and come down, Touch the mountains, that they smoke:
6 Throw out lightning, and scatter them. Send out your arrows, and rout them.
Flash forth lightning, that thou mayest scatter them, Send out thine arrows, that thou mayest confound them:
7 Stretch out your hand from above, rescue me, and deliver me out of great waters, out of the hands of foreigners,
Put forth thy hands from on high: —Snatch me away and rescue me out of mighty waters, out of the hand of the sons of the alien,
8 whose mouths speak deceit, whose right hand is a right hand of falsehood.
Whose mouth, hath spoken deceit, and, whose right hand, is a right hand of falsehood.
9 I will sing a new song to you, God. On a ten-stringed lyre, I will sing praises to you.
O God! a new song, will I sing unto thee, —On a harp of ten strings, will I make music to thee:
10 You are he who gives salvation to kings, who rescues David, his servant, from the deadly sword.
Who giveth victory unto kings—Who snatcheth away David his servant, from the calamitous sword.
11 Rescue me, and deliver me out of the hands of foreigners, whose mouths speak deceit, whose right hand is a right hand of falsehood.
Snatch me away and rescue me out of he hand of the sons of the alien, —whose mouth hath spoken deceit, and, whose right hand, is a right hand of falsehood: —
12 Then our sons will be like well-nurtured plants, our daughters like pillars carved to adorn a palace.
That, our sons, may be like plants well grown while yet young, —Our daughters, like corner pillars, —carved, in the construction of a palace:
13 Our barns are full, filled with all kinds of provision. Our sheep produce thousands and ten thousands in our fields.
Our garners, full, pouring out from one kind to another; Our flocks, multiplying by thousands—by myriads, in our open fields:
14 Our oxen will pull heavy loads. There is no breaking in, and no going away, and no outcry in our streets.
Our oxen, well-laden; no breaking in and no departing, —and no loud lament in our places of concourse: —
15 Happy are the people who are in such a situation. Happy are the people whose God is the LORD.
How happy the people that is in such a case! How happy the people that hath Yahweh for its God!
