A Song of Ascents.
“Many times they have persecuted me from my youth up,”
Let Israel now say,

Nor do those who pass by say,
“The blessing of the Lord be upon you;
We bless you in the name of the Lord.”

May all who hate Zion
Be put to shame and turned backward;

Let them be like grass upon the housetops,
Which withers before it grows up;

“The plowers plowed upon my back;
They lengthened their furrows.”

The Lord is righteous;
He has cut in two the cords of the wicked.

With which the reaper does not fill his hand,
Or the binder of sheaves his bosom;

“Many times they have persecuted me from my youth up;
Yet they have not prevailed against me.