Psalms 129

1 A song for pilgrims going up to Jerusalem. Many enemies have attacked from the time I was young. Let everyone in Israel say:

A Song of degrees. Many a time have they afflicted me from my youth — oh let Israel say —

2 Many enemies have attacked from the time I was young, but they never defeated me.

Many a time have they afflicted me from my youth; yet they have not prevailed against me.

3 They beat me on my back, leaving long furrows as if it had been ploughed by a farmer.

The ploughers ploughed upon my back; they made long their furrows.

4 But the Lord does what is right: he has cut me free from the ropes of the wicked.

Jehovah is righteous: he hath cut asunder the cords of the wicked.

5 May everyone who hates Zion be driven back in humiliating defeat.

Let them be ashamed and turned backward, all that hate Zion;

6 May they be like grass that grows on a roof that withers before it can be harvested,

Let them be as the grass upon the house-tops, which withereth before it is plucked up,

7 There's not enough even for a reaper to hold, not enough even for the binder to bind.

Wherewith the mower filleth not his hand, nor he that bindeth sheaves his bosom;

8 May passers-by not say to them, “The blessing of the Lord be on you; we bless you in the name of the Lord.”

Neither do the passers-by say, The blessing of Jehovah be upon you; we bless you in the name of Jehovah!