The snares of the wicked
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A SONG OF THE ASCENTS. Often they distressed me from my youth, || Pray, let Israel say:
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Often they distressed me from my youth, || Yet they have not prevailed over me.
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Plowers have plowed over my back, || They have made their furrows long.
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YHWH [is] righteous, || He has cut apart cords of the wicked.
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All hating Zion [are] confounded and turn backward.
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They are as grass of the roofs, || That withers before it was drawn out,
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That has not filled the hand of a reaper, || And the bosom of a binder of sheaves.
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And the passers by have not said, “The blessing of YHWH [is] on you, || We blessed you in the Name of YHWH!”
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