Psalms 64

1 To the Chief Musician. A Melody of David. Hear, O God, my voice when I complain, From dread peril by the foe, wilt thou guard my life.

εἰς τὸ τέλος ψαλμὸς τῷ Δαυιδ εἰσάκουσον ὁ θεός τῆς φωνῆς μου ἐν τῷ δέεσθαί με ἀπὸ φόβου ἐχθροῦ ἐξελοῦ τὴν ψυχήν μου

2 Wilt thou hide me, From the conclave of evil-doers, From the crowd of workers of iniquity.

ἐσκέπασάς με ἀπὸ συστροφῆς πονηρευομένων ἀπὸ πλήθους ἐργαζομένων τὴν ἀνομίαν

3 Who have sharpened, like a sword, their tongue, Have made ready their arrow—a bitter word;

οἵτινες ἠκόνησαν ὡς ῥομφαίαν τὰς γλώσσας αὐτῶν ἐνέτειναν τόξον αὐτῶν πρᾶγμα πικρὸν

4 To shoot, in secret places, at the blameless one, Suddenly they shoot at him, and fear not.

τοῦ κατατοξεῦσαι ἐν ἀποκρύφοις ἄμωμον ἐξάπινα κατατοξεύσουσιν αὐτὸν καὶ οὐ φοβηθήσονται

5 They strengthen for them a wicked word, They talk of hiding snares, They have said, Who can see them?

ἐκραταίωσαν ἑαυτοῖς λόγον πονηρόν διηγήσαντο τοῦ κρύψαι παγίδας εἶπαν τίς ὄψεται αὐτούς

6 They devise perverse things, They have completed the device well devised, Both the intent of each one, and the mind, are unsearchable.

ἐξηρεύνησαν ἀνομίας ἐξέλιπον ἐξερευνῶντες ἐξερευνήσει προσελεύσεται ἄνθρωπος καὶ καρδία βαθεῖα

7 Once let God have shot at them an arrow, Suddenly have appeared their own wounds!

καὶ ὑψωθήσεται ὁ θεός βέλος νηπίων ἐγενήθησαν αἱ πληγαὶ αὐτῶν

8 When they were to have ruined another, their tongue smote themselves, All who observe them take flight.

καὶ ἐξησθένησαν ἐπ’ αὐτοὺς αἱ γλῶσσαι αὐτῶν ἐταράχθησαν πάντες οἱ θεωροῦντες αὐτούς

9 Therefore have all men feared, —And have told the doing of God, And, his work, have considered.

καὶ ἐφοβήθη πᾶς ἄνθρωπος καὶ ἀνήγγειλαν τὰ ἔργα τοῦ θεοῦ καὶ τὰ ποιήματα αὐτοῦ συνῆκαν

10 The righteous man shall rejoice in Yahweh, and seek refuge in him, Then shall glory—all who are upright in heart.

εὐφρανθήσεται δίκαιος ἐπὶ τῷ κυρίῳ καὶ ἐλπιεῖ ἐπ’ αὐτόν καὶ ἐπαινεσθήσονται πάντες οἱ εὐθεῖς τῇ καρδίᾳ