She doth not sit for ever, Nor continueth unto many generations, Nor doth Arab pitch tent there, And shepherds lie not down there.

And established in kindness is the throne, And one hath sat on it in truth, in the tent of David, Judging and seeking judgment, and hasting righteousness.

See Zion, the city of our meetings, Thine eyes see Jerusalem a quiet habitation, A tent not taken down, Not removed are its pins for ever, And none of its cords are broken.

My sojourning hath departed, And been removed from me as a shepherd's tent, I have drawn together, as a weaver, my life, By weakness it cutteth me off, From day unto night Thou dost end me.

He who is sitting on the circle of the earth, And its inhabitants are as grasshoppers, He who is stretching out as a thin thing the heavens, And spreadeth them as a tent to dwell in.

They do not hunger, nor thirst, Nor smite them doth mirage and sun, For He who is pitying them doth lead them, And by fountains of waters doth tend them.

Enlarge the place of thy tent, And the curtains of thy tabernacles they stretch out, Restrain not -- lengthen thy cords, And thy pins make strong.