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:

The song of greces. Israel seie now; Ofte thei fouyten ayens me fro my yongth.

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

Ofte thei fouyten ayens me fro my yongthe; and sotheli thei miyten not to me.

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

Synneris forgeden on my bak; thei maden long her wickidnesse.

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

The `iust Lord schal beete the nollis of synneris;

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

alle that haten Sion be schent, and turned abak.

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

Be thei maad as the hey of hous coppis; that driede vp, bifore that it be drawun vp.

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

Of which hei he that schal repe, schal not fille his hond; and he that schal gadere hondfullis, schal not fille his bosum.

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.”

And thei that passiden forth seiden not, The blessing of the Lord be on you; we blessiden you in the name of the Lord.