No king is saved by an army of great breadth and length.
No one is delivered by mighty martial strength.*
It is vain to hope the cavelry and airforce can make you safe
What deliverence can be born of machine gun strafe?
Behold the eye of the Lord is on those who fear only Him
On those who ask Him for merciful protection from all that is grim
He delivers their soul from death and keeps them alive in famine.
Return to the pure source from your briney sea as does the salmon.
Our soul waits for the Lord: He is our help and our shield.
We shall rejoice in Him: let's trust Him to save us from the battle field.
We trust in your holy name O Lord, let your mercy flow,
O Lord, be upon us that our trust and faith might grow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem