Study Desk

Do not hide thy face from me, In the day when I am in distress, - Bend down unto me thine ear, In the day when I call, speedily answer me.

For, consumed in smoke, are my days, And, my bones, like a burning mass, are scorched through;

Smitten like herbage, so is my heart dried up, For I have forgotten to eat my food.

At the noise of my groaning, my bone, hath cleaved, to my flesh:

I am like the pelican of the desert, I have become as an owl among ruins.

I have watched and am become, Like a bird sitting alone upon a housetop.

All the day, have mine enemies, reproached me, And, they who are mad against me, by me, have sworn.

For, ashes - like bread, have I eaten, And, my drink - with my tears, have I mingled;

Because of thine indignation and thy wrath, For thou hast lifted me up, and cast me down.

My days, are like a shadow extended, And, I, as green herbage, do wither.

But, thou, O Yahweh, age-abidingly wilt remain, And the memorial of thee, to generation after generation.

Thou, wilt arise, wilt have compassion upon Zion, Surely it is time to favour her, Surely the time appointed, hath come;

Seeing that thy servants, take pleasure, in her stones, And, her dust, they favour:

That the nations may revere thy Name, O Yahweh, And all the kings of the earth, thy glory.

When Yahweh, hath built up, Zion, Hath appeared in his glory;

Hath turned towards the prayer of the destitute, And not despised their prayer,

This, shall be written, for a later generation, And, a people to be created, will give praise unto Yah: -

That he looked down, out of his holy height, Yahweh, from the heavens unto the earth, directed his gaze; -

To hear the groaning of the prisoner, To set free, them who were appointed to death.

To the end the Name of Yahweh, might be celebrated in Zion, And his praise in Jerusalem:

When the peoples, gather themselves together, And the kingdoms, to serve Yahweh.

He hath prostrated, in the way, my strength, - He hath shortened my days.

I said, O my GOD, do not remove me in the midst of my days, Throughout the generation of generations, are thy years;

Of old - the earth, thou didst found, And, the work of thy hands, are the heavens;

They, shall perish, But, thou, wilt abide; And, they all, like a garment, shall fall in pieces, As a vesture, wilt thou change them and they shall vanish;

But, thou, art, the same, - And, thy years, shall have no end:

The children of thy servants, shall continue, - And, their seed, before thee, be established.