Psalms 123

1 A Song of degrees. Unto thee do I lift up mine eyes, O thou that dwellest in the heavens.

Se yon chante pou yo chante lè y'ap moute lavil Jerizalèm. Ou menm ki chita sou fotèy ou nan syèl la ap gouvènen, se bò kote ou mwen leve je mwen.

2 Behold, as the eyes of servants [look] unto the hand of their masters, as the eyes of a maiden unto the hand of her mistress, so our eyes [are directed] to Jehovah our God, until he be gracious unto us.

Menm jan domestik la ap gade sou mèt li, menm jan sèvant la ap gade sou metrès li, se konsa m'ap gade sou Seyè a, Bondye nou an, jouk l'a gen pitye pou nou.

3 Be gracious unto us, O Jehovah, be gracious unto us; for we are exceedingly filled with contempt.

Gen pitye pou nou, Seyè, gen pitye pou nou, paske nou sibi kont nou anba moun k'ap meprize nou yo.

4 Our soul is exceedingly filled with the scorning of those that are at ease, with the contempt of the proud.

Moun ki alèz yo pase nou nan kont betiz. Moun k'ap gonfle lestonmak yo sou moun ap foule nou anba pye yo.