Psalms 120

1 The song of greces. Whanne Y was set in tribulacioun, Y criede to the Lord; and he herde me.

A Song of degrees. In my trouble I called unto Jehovah, and he answered me.

2 Lord, delyuere thou my soule fro wickid lippis; and fro a gileful tunge.

Jehovah, deliver my soul from the lying lip, from the deceitful tongue.

3 What schal be youun to thee, ether what schal be leid to thee; to a gileful tunge?

What shall be given unto thee, what shall be added unto thee, thou deceitful tongue?

4 Scharpe arowis of the myyti; with colis that maken desolat.

Sharp arrows of a mighty one, with burning coals of broom-wood.

5 Allas to me! for my dwelling in an alien lond is maad long, Y dwellide with men dwellinge in Cedar; my soule was myche a comelyng.

Woe is me, that I sojourn in Meshech, that I dwell among the tents of Kedar!

6 I was pesible with hem that hatiden pees;

My soul hath long dwelt with them that hate peace.

7 whanne Y spak to hem, thei ayenseiden me with outen cause.

I [am for] peace; but when I speak, they [are] for war.