High praise, Yahweh, I give You, for You have helped me up,
and not let my enemies gloat over me.
Yahweh, my God, I cried to You for help, and You have
healed me.
Yahweh, You have brought my soul up from Sheol,
of all those who go down to the Pit You have revived me.
Play music in Yahweh's honour, you devout,
remember His Holiness, and praise Him.
His anger lasts a moment, His favour a lifetime;
in the evening, a spell of tears, in the morning, shouts of joy.
In my prosperity, I used to say,
'Nothing can ever shake me! '
Your favour, Yahweh, stood me on a peak impregnable;
but then You hid Your face and I was terrified.
Yahweh, I call to You,
I beg my God to pity me,
'What do you going by my blood if i go down to the Pit?
Can the dust praise You or proclaim Your faithfulness?
'Hear, Yahweh, take pity on me;
Yahweh, help me! '
You have turned my mourning into dancing,
You have stripped off my sackcloth and wrapped me in gladness;
and now my heart, silent no longer, will play You music;
Yahweh, my God, I will praise You for ever.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem