Jehovah, at morning Thou hearest my voice, At morning I set in array for Thee, And I look out.

Pain do his ways at all times, On high are Thy judgments before him, All his adversaries -- he puffeth at them.

For -- a moment is in His anger, Life is in His good-will, At even remaineth weeping, and at morn singing.

And Thou, O Jehovah dost laugh at them, Thou dost mock at all the nations.

There fall at thy side a thousand, And a myriad at thy right hand, Unto thee it cometh not nigh.