Song of ascensions. Much they pressed me from my youth, shall Israel now say:

And they passing by, said not, The praise of Jehovah to you: we praised you in the name of Jehovah.

They shall be ashamed and draw back all hating Zion.

They shall be as the grass of the roofs drying up before it was drawn out:

They ploughing, ploughed upon my back: they made long to their furrows

Jehovah the just cut the entanglings of the unjust

He harvesting filled not his hand; and he heaping together, not his arm.

Much they pressed me from my youth: also they shall not prevail against me.