The Cords of the Wicked

A song of ascents.

Many a time they have persecuted me from my youth—

let Israel now declare—

many a time they have persecuted me from my youth,

but they have not prevailed against me.

The plowmen plowed over my back;

they made their furrows long.

The LORD is righteous;

He has cut me from the cords of the wicked.

May all who hate Zion

be turned back in shame.

May they be like grass on the rooftops,

which withers before it can grow,

unable to fill the hands of the reaper,

or the arms of the binder of sheaves.

May none who pass by say to them,

“The blessing of the LORD be on you;

we bless you in the name of the LORD.”