By David ///
To you, God, I cry out -- don't deafen yourself to my prayer;
For if you withdraw in silence,
I will be like those who plunge into the well of death.
Listen to the voice of my pleasing;
my cries for help when I raise up my hands in your innermost chamber.
Don't drag me along with the wrongful,
unrepentant wreakers of harm,
those who say "peace" to their neighbors when hatred swells in their hearts.
Repay them according to their deeds,
according to the harm they made happen.
The work of their hands,
let them feel the pain they created.
Give them what they deserve,
for they don't understand your works
or the wondrous acts of your hands.
Break them down and don't rebuild them.
I will bend my knees in praise to you
for having listened to the voice of my pleading.
Your are my strength and my shield.
In you my heart trusted,
and I was helped from the dust.
My heart will exult;
I will pour out gratitude
through voice of my songs.
You give us strength;
a source of salvation
for your anointed.
Save your people, bless your possessions.
Guide them like sheep,
lifting them over obstacles forever.
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