Chapter 54

(To the choir-master. For stringed instruments. A maskil. Of David.)

Give audience to my prayer, O God; do not spurn this plea of mine;

hear and grant relief. No rest I find in my distress,

daunted ever by the hue and cry of godless enemies, whose malicious spite would compass my ruin.

My heart is full of whirling thoughts; the fear of death stands over me;

trembling and terrified, I see perils closing round me.

Had I but wings, I cry, as a dove has wings, to fly away and find rest!

Far would I flee; the wilderness should be my shelter,

so I might find speedy refuge from the whirlwind and the storm.

Plunge them deep, Lord, in ruin, bring dissension into their councils! Do I not see, already, violence and sedition in the city?

Day and night they make the round of its walls, and all the while there is wrong and oppression at the heart of it,

its treacherous heart; cruelty and cunning walk ever in its streets.

Had some enemy decried me, I could have borne it patiently; some open ill-wisher, I could have sheltered myself from his attack.

But thou, my second self, my familiar friend!

How pleasant was the companionship we shared, thou and I; how lovingly we walked as fellow pilgrims in the house of God!

May death overtake them, may the abyss swallow them up alive, their homes, their hearts so tainted with evil!

Still I will call upon God, and the Lord will save;

still at evening and morn and noon I will cry aloud and make my plea known; he will not be deaf to my appeal.

He will win my soul peace, will rescue me from attack, when many take part against me.

He, the God who reigned before time was, will listen to me, will bring them low. Never a change of heart, never the fear of God;

not one but will turn against his friend, break his pledged word.

Smooth as butter their looks, when their hearts are all hatred; soft as oil their speech, yet never was drawn sword so deadly.

Cast the burden of thy cares upon the Lord, and he will sustain thee; never will he let thee stumble, his servant if thou be.

These, O God, thou wilt sink in a pit of ruin; the blood-thirsty, the treacherous, will not live out half their days; but I, Lord, will put my trust in thee.