A song of ascents.
“Since my youth they have often attacked me,”
let Israel say.
“Since my youth they have often attacked me,
but they have not defeated me.
The plowers plowed my back;
they made their furrows long.
The Lord is just;
he cut the ropes of the wicked.”
May all who hate Zion
be humiliated and turned back!
May they be like the grass on the rooftops
which withers before one can even pull it up,
which cannot fill the reaper’s hand,
or the lap of the one who gathers the grain!
Those who pass by will not say,
“May you experience the Lord’s blessing!
We pronounce a blessing on you in the name of the Lord.”