How thy works abound, O Yahweh! All of them - in wisdom, hast thou made, The earth is full of thy possession: -

He hath fixed the earth on its foundations, It is not to be shaken, to times age-abiding and beyond.

Bless, O my soul, Yahweh, - Yahweh, my God, thou art exceedingly great, With honour and majesty, hast thou clothed thyself,

Thou sendest forth thy spirit, they are created, And thou renewest the face of the ground.

Making His messengers, winds, His attendants, a flaming fire;

Who causeth the grass to shoot forth for the cattle, And the herb, for the service of man, That he may bring forth food out of the earth;

And, wine, may rejoice the heart of man, Making radiant his well-nourished face, - And, food, may, the heart of man, sustain.

Thou hidest thy face, they are dismayed, Thou withdrawest their spirit, They cease to breathe, And, unto their own dust, do they return:

Putting on light, as a robe, Stretching out the heavens, as a curtain;

I will sing to Yahweh, as long as I live! Yea I will touch the strings to my God, while I continue;

This sea here, is great and broad on both hands, - Wherein are creeping things, even without number, Living things, small with great;

Building, in the waters, his upper chambers, - Who maketh clouds his chariot, Who passeth along on the wings of the wind;

All of them, for thee, do wait, That thou mayest give them their food in its season;

Be thy glory, O Yahweh, to times age-abiding, Let Yahweh rejoice in his own works:

He hath made the moon for seasons, And, the sun, knoweth his place for entering in.

Who hast sent forth springs, through the torrent-beds, Between the mountains, they flow along;

With the resounding deep - as a garment, hast thou covered it, Above the mountains, stand the waters;

There, ships, sail along, This sea-monster, thou hast formed to sport therein;

Sinners shall be consumed out of the earth And, the lawless, no more, shall exist, - Bless, O my soul, Yahweh, Praise ye Yah!

Satisfied are, The trees of Yahweh, The cedars of Lebanon, which he hath planted;

Pleasing unto him, be my meditation, I, will rejoice in Yahweh.

The young lions, roaring for prey, And seeking, from GOD, their food.

Mountains rise, Valleys sink, Unto the place which thou hast fixed for them;

The high mountains, are for the chamois, The crags, are a refuge for the conies.

Who watereth the mountains out of his upper chambers, Out of the fruit of thy works, thou satisfiest the earth.

Where the birds build their nests, The stork, in the fir-trees, hath her house;

Thou causest darkness, and it becometh night, Therein, creepeth forth, Every wild beast of the forest;

Man goeth forth to his work, And to his labour, until evening.

Who looketh at the earth, and it trembleth, He toucheth the mountains, and they smoke.

Bounds, hast thou set, which they are not to pass over, They are not to return to cover the earth.

At thy rebuke, they flee, At the voice of thy thunder, they hurry away;

Over them, the bird of the heavens settleth down, From amidst the foliage, they utter a voice.

The sun ariseth, they withdraw themselves, And, in their lairs, lay them down.

Thou givest unto them, they gather, Thou openest thy hand, they are satisfied with good.

They give drink, to every wild beast of the field, The wild asses do break their thirst.