Psalms 144
1 David’s. Blessed be Yahweh, my Rock, who teacheth my hands to war, my fingers to fight:
[A Psalm] of David concerning Goliad. Blessed [be] the Lord my God, who instructs my hands for battle, [and] my fingers for war.
2 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.
My mercy, and my refuge; my helper, and my deliverer; my protector, in whom I have trusted; who subdues my people under me.
3 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:
Lord, what is man, that you are made known to him? or the son of man, that you take account of him?
4 The earthborn, resembleth, a vapour, his days, are like a passing shadow.
Man is like to vanity: his days pass as a shadow.
5 O Yahweh! bow thy heavens and come down, Touch the mountains, that they smoke:
O Lord, bow your heavens, and come down: touch the mountains, and they shall smoke.
6 Flash forth lightning, that thou mayest scatter them, Send out thine arrows, that thou mayest confound them:
Send lightning, and you shall scatter them: send forth your arrows, and you shall discomfit them.
7 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,
Send forth your hand from on high; rescue me, and deliver me out of great waters, out of the hand of strange children;
8 Whose mouth, hath spoken deceit, and, whose right hand, is a right hand of falsehood.
whose mouth has spoken vanity, and their right hand is a right hand of iniquity.
9 O God! a new song, will I sing unto thee, —On a harp of ten strings, will I make music to thee:
O God, I will sing a new song to you: I will play to you on a lute of ten strings.
10 Who giveth victory unto kings—Who snatcheth away David his servant, from the calamitous sword.
[Even] to him who gives salvation to kings: who redeems his servant David from the hurtful sword.
11 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: —
Deliver me, and rescue me from the hand of strange children, whose mouth has spoken vanity, and their right hand is a right hand of iniquity;
12 That, our sons, may be like plants well grown while yet young, —Our daughters, like corner pillars, —carved, in the construction of a palace:
whose children are as plants, strengthened in their youth: their daughters are beautiful, sumptuously adorned after the similitude of a temple.
13 Our garners, full, pouring out from one kind to another; Our flocks, multiplying by thousands—by myriads, in our open fields:
Their garners are full, and bursting with one kind of store after another; their sheep are prolific, multiplying in their streets.
14 Our oxen, well-laden; no breaking in and no departing, —and no loud lament in our places of concourse: —
Their oxen are fat: there is no falling down of a hedge, nor going out, nor cry in their folds.
15 How happy the people that is in such a case! How happy the people that hath Yahweh for its God!
Men bless the people to whom this lot belongs, [but] blessed is the people whose God is the Lord.
