Psalms 42
1 To the Chief Musician. An Instructive Psalm for the Sons of Korah. As, the hart, cometh panting up to the channels of water, So my soul, panteth for thee, O God.
To victorie, to the sones of Chore. As an hert desirith to the wellis of watris; so thou, God, my soule desirith to thee.
2 My soul thirsteth for God, for a GOD who liveth, —When shall I enter in, and see the face of God?
Mi soule thirstide to God, `that is a `quik welle; whanne schal Y come, and appere bifor the face of God?
3 My tears have been my food day and night, While it hath been said unto me all the day, Where is thy God?
Mi teeris weren looues to me bi dai and nyyt; while it is seid to me ech dai, Where is thi God?
4 These things, I keep calling to mind, and pouring out, over me, my own soul, For I used to cross over with a crowd, Lead them in procession up to the house of God, With the voice of shouting and praise.—a throng keeping festival.
I bithouyte of these thingis, and Y schedde out in me my soule; for Y schal passe in to the place of the wondurful tabernacle, til to the hows of God. In the vois of ful out ioiyng and knoulechyng; is the sown of the etere.
5 Why shouldst thou be cast down, O my soul? And [why] shouldst thou moan over me? Wait thou for God, for yet shall I praise him, As the triumph of my presence.
Mi soule, whi art thou sory; and whi disturblist thou me? Hope thou in God, for yit Y schal knouleche to hym; he is the helthe of my cheer,
6 My God! over myself, my soul is cast down, —For this cause, will I remember thee from the land of Jordan, And the Hermons, from the hill Mizar.
and my God. My soule is disturblid at my silf; therfor, God, Y schal be myndeful of thee fro the lond of Jordan, and fro the litil hil Hermonyim.
7 Roaring deep unto roaring deep, is calling, at the voice of thy cataracts, All thy breakers and thy rolling waves, over me, have passed.
Depthe clepith depthe; in the vois of thi wyndows. Alle thin hiye thingis and thi wawis; passiden ouer me.
8 By day, will Yahweh command his lovingkindness, And, in the night, shall His song be with me, My prayer be to the GOD of my life.
The Lord sente his merci in the dai; and his song in the nyyt.
9 I will say onto GOD, —my rock, Wherefore hast thou forgotten me? Wherefore in gloom should I go, because of oppression by the enemy?
At me is a preier to the God of my lijf; Y schal seie to God, Thou art my `takere vp. Whi foryetist thou me; and whi go Y sorewful, while the enemy turmentith me?
10 With a crushing of my bones, have my adversaries reproached me, —While they keep saying unto me all the day, Where is thy God?
While my boonys ben brokun togidere; myn enemyes, that troblen me, dispiseden me. While thei seien to me, bi alle daies; Where is thi God?
11 Why shouldst thou be sat down, O my soul? And why shouldst thou moan over me? Wait thou for God, for yet shall I praise him, As the triumph of my presence and my God.
Mi soule, whi art thou sori; and whi disturblist thou me? Hope thou in God, for yit Y schal knouleche to hym; `he is the helthe of my cheer, and my God.
