Psalms 144

NEW JERUSALEM	DOUAI-RHEIMS
1 [Of David] Blessed be Yahweh, my rock, who trains my hands for war and my fingers for battle,	1 Hear, O Lord, my prayer: give ear to my supplication in thy truth: hear me in thy justice.
2 my faithful love, my bastion, my citadel, my Saviour; I shelter behind him, my shield, he makes thepeoples submit to me.	2 And enter not into judgment with thy servant: for in thy sight no man living shall be justified.
3 Yahweh, what is a human being for you to notice, a child of Adam for you to think about?	3 For the enemy hath persecuted my soul: he hath brought down my life to the earth. He hath made me to dwell in darkness as those that have been dead of old:
4 Human life, a mere puff of wind, days as fleeting as a shadow.	4 and my spirit is in anguish within me: my heart within me is troubled.
5 Yahweh, part the heavens and come down, touch the mountains, make them smoke.	5 I remembered the days of old, I meditated on all thy works: I meditated upon the works of thy hands.
6 Scatter them with continuous lightning-flashes, rout them with a vol ey of your arrows.	6 I stretched forth my hands to thee: my soul is as earth without water unto thee.
7 Stretch down your hand from above, save me, rescue me from deep waters, from the clutches offoreigners,	7 Hear me speedily, O Lord: my spirit hath fainted away. Turn not away thy face from me, lest I be like unto them that go down into the pit.
8 whose every word is worthless, whose right hand is raised in perjury.	8 Cause me to hear thy mercy in the morning; for in thee have I hoped. Make the way known to me, wherein I should walk: for I have lifted up my soul to thee.
9 God, I sing to you a new song, I play to you on the ten-stringed lyre,	9 Deliver me from my enemies, O Lord, to thee have I fled:
10 for you give kings their victories, you rescue your servant David. From the sword of evil	10 teach me to do thy will, for thou art my God. Thy good spirit shall lead me into the right land:
11 save me, rescue me from the clutches of foreigners whose every word is worthless, whose righthand testifies to falsehood.	11 for thy name's sake, O Lord, thou wilt quicken me in thy justice. Thou wilt bring my soul out of trouble:
12 May our sons be like plants growing tal from their earliest days, our daughters like pil ars carved fitfor a palace,	12 and in thy mercy thou wilt destroy my enemies. And thou wilt cut off all them that afflict my soul: for I am thy servant.
13 our barns fil ed to overflowing with every kind of crop, the sheep in our pastures be numbered inthousands and tens of thousands,
14 our cattle wel fed, free of raids and pil age, free of outcry in our streets.
15 How blessed the nation of whom this is true, blessed the nation whose God is Yahweh!