1Hear, O God, my voice when I complain, From dread peril by the foe, wilt thou guard my life.
2Wilt thou hide me, From the conclave of evil-doers, From the crowd of workers of iniquity.
3Who have sharpened, like a sword, their tongue, Have made ready their arrow—a bitter word;
4To shoot, in secret places, at the blameless one, Suddenly they shoot at him, and fear not.
5They strengthen for them a wicked word, They talk of hiding snares, They have said, Who can see them?
6They devise perverse things, They have completed the device well devised, Both the intent of each one, and the mind, are unsearchable.
7Once let God have shot at them an arrow, Suddenly have appeared their own wounds!
8When they were to have ruined another, their tongue smote themselves, All who observe them take flight.
9Therefore have all men feared,—And have told the doing of God, And, his work, have considered.
10The righteous man shall rejoice in Yahweh, and seek refuge in him, Then shall glory—all who are upright in heart.