Psalms 41

To the Chief Musician. A Melody of David.

How happy is he that is attentive to the poor, In the day of calamity, will Yahweh deliver him: Yahweh, will preserve him and keep him alive, And he shall be pronounced happy in the land, Do not then give him up at the desire of his enemies! Yahweh, will sustain him upon the bed of sickness, All his couch, hast thou transformed in his disease. I, said—O Yahweh, show me favour, heal thou my soul, for I have sinned against thee:

Mine enemies, speak ill of me, When will he die, and his name perish? And, if he have come to see me, Falsehood, doth he speak, His own heart, gathereth iniquity to itself, he goeth forth, abroad he telleth it. Together—against me, do all who hate me whisper among themselves, Against me, devise they hurt for me. An infliction of the Abandoned One hath been fixed upon him, and, now that he hath lien down, he will not again rise. Even the man whom I used to salute, in whom I put confidence, who used to eat my bread,—hath magnified his heel against me! 10 But, thou, O Yahweh, show me favour and raise me up, That I may repay them. 11 Hereby, do I know that thou delightest in me, In that mine enemy shall not raise a shout over me. 12 But, as for me, In my blamelessness, hast thou held me fast, And hast caused me to stand before thee unto times age-abiding. 13 Blessed be Yahweh, the God of Israel, From the age that is past, even unto the age yet to come: Amen and Amen!

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