The Book of Psalms

A SONG OF THE ASCENTS. I lift up my eyes to the hills, || From where does my help come?

My help [is] from YHWH, || Maker of the heavens and earth,

He does not permit your foot to be moved, || He who is preserving you does not slumber.

Behold, He does not slumber, nor sleep, || He who is preserving Israel.

YHWH [is] He who is preserving you, || YHWH [is] your shade on your right hand,

By day the sun does not strike you, || Nor the moon by night.

YHWH preserves you from all evil, || He preserves your soul.

YHWH preserves your going out and your coming in, || From now on—even for all time!