Psalms 144

DOUAI-RHEIMS	NEW JERUSALEM
1 Hear, O Lord, my prayer: give ear to my supplication in thy truth: hear me in thy justice.	1 [Of David] Blessed be Yahweh, my rock, who trains my hands for war and my fingers for battle,
2 And enter not into judgment with thy servant: for in thy sight no man living shall be justified.	2 my faithful love, my bastion, my citadel, my Saviour; I shelter behind him, my shield, he makes thepeoples submit to me.
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:	3 Yahweh, what is a human being for you to notice, a child of Adam for you to think about?
4 and my spirit is in anguish within me: my heart within me is troubled.	4 Human life, a mere puff of wind, days as fleeting as a shadow.
5 I remembered the days of old, I meditated on all thy works: I meditated upon the works of thy hands.	5 Yahweh, part the heavens and come down, touch the mountains, make them smoke.
6 I stretched forth my hands to thee: my soul is as earth without water unto thee.	6 Scatter them with continuous lightning-flashes, rout them with a vol ey of your arrows.
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.	7 Stretch down your hand from above, save me, rescue me from deep waters, from the clutches offoreigners,
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.	8 whose every word is worthless, whose right hand is raised in perjury.
9 Deliver me from my enemies, O Lord, to thee have I fled:	9 God, I sing to you a new song, I play to you on the ten-stringed lyre,
10 teach me to do thy will, for thou art my God. Thy good spirit shall lead me into the right land:	10 for you give kings their victories, you rescue your servant David. From the sword of evil
11 for thy name's sake, O Lord, thou wilt quicken me in thy justice. Thou wilt bring my soul out of trouble:	11 save me, rescue me from the clutches of foreigners whose every word is worthless, whose righthand testifies to falsehood.
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.	12 May our sons be like plants growing tal from their earliest days, our daughters like pil ars carved fitfor a palace,
	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!