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