Псалтирь 129

1 Множицею брашася со мною от юности моея, да речет убо Израиль:

A song for pilgrims going up to Jerusalem. Many enemies have attacked from the time I was young. Let everyone in Israel say:

2 множицею брашася со мною от юности моея, ибо не премогоша мя.

Many enemies have attacked from the time I was young, but they never defeated me.

3 На хребте моем делаша грешницы, продолжиша беззаконие свое.

They beat me on my back, leaving long furrows as if it had been ploughed by a farmer.

4 Господь праведен ссече выя грешников.

But the Lord does what is right: he has cut me free from the ropes of the wicked.

5 Да постыдятся и возвратятся вспять вси ненавидящии Сиона:

May everyone who hates Zion be driven back in humiliating defeat.

6 да будут яко трава на здех, яже прежде восторжения изсше:

May they be like grass that grows on a roof that withers before it can be harvested,

7 еюже не исполни руки своея жняй, и недра своего рукояти собираяй:

There's not enough even for a reaper to hold, not enough even for the binder to bind.

8 и не реша мимоходящии: благословение Господне на вы, благословихом вы во имя Господне.

May passers-by not say to them, “The blessing of the Lord be on you; we bless you in the name of the Lord.”