(For the Chief Musician. A Psalm by Davina.) Blessed is she who considers the poor. Yahweh will deliver her in the day of evil.
Yahweh will preserve her, and keep her alive. She shall be blessed on the earth, and she will not surrender her to the will of her enemies.
Yahweh will sustain her on her sickbed, and restore her from her bed of illness.
I said, "Yahweh, have mercy on me! Heal me, for I have sinned against you."
My enemies speak evil against me: "When will she die, and her name perish?"
If she comes to see me, she speaks falsehood. Her heart gathers iniquity to itself. When she goes abroad, she tells it.
All who hate me whisper together against me. They imagine the worst for me.
"An evil disease," they say, "has afflicted her. Now that she lies she shall rise up no more."
Yes, my own familiar friend, in whom I trusted, who ate bread with me, has lifted up her heel against me.
But you, Yahweh, have mercy on me, and raise me up, that I may repay them.
By this I know that you delight in me, because my enemy doesn't triumph over me.
As for me, you uphold me in my integrity, and set me in your presence forever.
Blessed be Yahweh, the God of Israel, from everlasting and to everlasting! Amen and amen.