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Psalms 144
DBY
Darby Bible · 1890
YLT
Young's Literal Translation · 1862
1 Blessed be Jehovah my rock, who teacheth my hands to war, my fingers to fight;
1By David. Blessed <FI>is<Fi> Jehovah my rock, who is teaching My hands for war, my fingers for battle.
2 My mercy and my fortress, my high tower and my deliverer, my shield and he in whom I trust, who subdueth my people under me!
2My kind one, and my bulwark, My tower, and my deliverer, My shield, and in whom I have trusted, Who is subduing my people under me!
3 Jehovah, what is man, that thou takest knowledge of him, the son of man, that thou takest thought of him?
3Jehovah, what <FI>is<Fi> man that Thou knowest him? Son of man, that Thou esteemest him?
4 Man is like to vanity; his days are as a shadow that passeth away.
4Man to vanity hath been like, His days <FI>are<Fi> as a shadow passing by.
5 Jehovah, bow thy heavens, and come down; touch the mountains, that they smoke;
5Jehovah, incline Thy heavens and come down, Strike against mountains, and they smoke.
6 Cast forth lightnings, and scatter them; send forth thine arrows, and discomfit them:
6Send forth lightning, and scatter them, Send forth Thine arrows, and trouble them,
7 Stretch out thy hands from above; rescue me, and deliver me out of great waters, from the hand of aliens,
7Send forth Thy hand from on high, Free me, and deliver me from many waters, From the hand of sons of a stranger,
8 Whose mouth speaketh vanity, and their right hand is a right hand of falsehood.
8Because their mouth hath spoken vanity, And their right hand <FI>is<Fi> a right hand of falsehood.
9 OGod, I will sing a new song unto thee; with the ten-stringed lute will I sing psalms unto thee:
9O God, a new song I sing to Thee, On a psaltery of ten strings I sing praise to Thee.
10 Who givest salvation unto kings; who rescuest David thy servant from the hurtful sword.
10Who is giving deliverance to kings, Who is freeing David His servant from the sword of evil.
11 Rescue me, and deliver me from the hand of aliens, whose mouth speaketh vanity, and their right hand is a right hand of falsehood.
11Free me, and deliver me From the hand of sons of a stranger, Because their mouth hath spoken vanity, And their right hand <FI>is<Fi> a right hand of falsehood,
12 That our sons may be as plants grown up in their youth; our daughters as corner-columns, sculptured after the fashion of a palace:
12Because our sons <FI>are<Fi> as plants, Becoming great in their youth, Our daughters as hewn stones, Polished--the likeness of a palace,
13 Our granaries full, affording all manner of store; our sheep bringing forth thousands, ten thousands in our pastures;
13Our garners <FI>are<Fi> full, bringing out from kind to kind, Our flocks are bringing forth thousands, Ten thousands in our out-places,