Psalms 129

1 A SONG OF THE ASCENTS. Often they distressed me from my youth, Pray, let Israel say:

Cantique des degrés. Ils m’ont assez opprimé dès ma jeunesse, Qu’Israël le dise!

2 Often they distressed me from my youth, Yet they have not prevailed over me.

Ils m’ont assez opprimé dès ma jeunesse, Mais ils ne m’ont pas vaincu.

3 Plowers have plowed over my back, They have made their furrows long.

Des laboureurs ont labouré mon dos, Ils y ont tracé de longs sillons.

4 YHWH [is] righteous, He has cut apart cords of the wicked.

L’Éternel est juste: Il a coupé les cordes des méchants.

5 All hating Zion [are] confounded and turn backward.

Qu’ils soient confondus et qu’ils reculent, Tous ceux qui haïssent Sion!

6 They are as grass of the roofs, That withers before it was drawn out,

Qu’ils soient comme l’herbe des toits, Qui sèche avant qu’on l’arrache!

7 That has not filled the hand of a reaper, And the bosom of a binder of sheaves.

Le moissonneur n’en remplit point sa main, Celui qui lie les gerbes n’en charge point son bras,

8 And the passers by have not said, “The blessing of YHWH [is] on you, We blessed you in the Name of YHWH!”

Et les passants ne disent point: Que la bénédiction de l’Éternel soit sur vous! Nous vous bénissons au nom de l’Éternel!