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 THE ASCENTS. I have called to YHWH in my distress, And He answers me.

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

O YHWH, deliver my soul from a lying lip, From a deceitful tongue!

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

What does He give to you? And what does He add to you? O deceitful tongue!

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

Sharp arrows of a mighty one, with coals of broom trees.

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 to me, for I have inhabited Mesech, I have dwelt with tents of Kedar.

6 I was pesible with hem that hatiden pees;

My soul has dwelt too much with him who is hating peace.

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

I—peace, and when I speak they [are] for war!