Psalms 144
1 A Psalm of David. Blessed be the LORD my Rock, who traineth my hands for war, and my fingers for battle;
David’s. Blessed be Yahweh, my Rock, who teacheth my hands to war, my fingers to fight:
2 My lovingkindness, and my fortress, my high tower, and my deliverer; my shield, and He in whom I take refuge; who subdueth 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 Thou takest knowledge of him? or the son of man, that Thou makest account 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 unto a breath; his days are as a shadow that passeth away.
The earthborn, resembleth, a vapour, his days, are like a passing shadow.
5 O LORD, bow Thy heavens, and come down; touch the mountains, that they may smoke.
O Yahweh! bow thy heavens and come down, Touch the mountains, that they smoke:
6 Cast forth lightning, and scatter them; send out Thine arrows, and discomfit them.
Flash forth lightning, that thou mayest scatter them, Send out thine arrows, that thou mayest confound them:
7 Stretch forth Thy hands from on high; rescue me, and deliver me out of many waters, out of the hand of strangers;
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 mouth speaketh falsehood, and their right hand is a right hand of lying.
Whose mouth, hath spoken deceit, and, whose right hand, is a right hand of falsehood.
9 O God, I will sing a new song unto Thee, upon a psaltery of ten strings will I sing praises unto Thee;
O God! a new song, will I sing unto thee, —On a harp of ten strings, will I make music to thee:
10 Who givest salvation unto kings, who rescuest David Thy servant from the hurtful 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 hand of strangers, whose mouth speaketh falsehood, and their right hand is a right hand of lying.
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 We whose sons are as plants grown up in their youth; whose daughters are as corner-pillars carved after the fashion of 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 Whose garners are full, affording all manner of store; whose sheep increase by 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 Whose oxen are well laden; with no breach, and no going forth, and no outcry in our broad places;
Our oxen, well-laden; no breaking in and no departing, —and no loud lament in our places of concourse: —
15 Happy is the people that is in such a case. Yea, happy is 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!
