A pilgrimage song / / /
From youth, people have constantly attacked me --
let Israel now repeat! --
from youth people have constantly attacked me --
but they haven't beaten me!
They plowed my back like farmers;
they made their furrows deep.
But the LORD is righteous --
God cut me free from the ropes of the wicked!
Let everyone who hates Zion be ashamed, thoroughly frustrated.
Let them be like grass on a roof
that dies before it can be pulled up,
which won't fill the reaper's hand or fill the harvester's arms.
Let no one who passes by say to them,
"May the LORD's blessing be on you!
We bless you in the LORD's name!"
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