(For the Chief Musician. To the tune of "Do Not Destroy." A Psalm by Asaph. A song.) We give thanks to you, God. We give thanks, for your Name is near. Women tell about your wondrous works.

When I choose the appointed time, I will judge blamelessly.

The earth and all its inhabitants quake. I firmly hold its pillars. Selah.

I said to the arrogant, "Don't boast!" I said to the wicked, "Don't lift up the horn.

Don't lift up your horn on high. Don't speak with a stiff neck."

For neither from the east, nor from the west, nor yet from the south, comes exaltation.

But God is the judge. She puts down one, and lifts up another.

For in the hand of Yahweh there is a cup, full of foaming wine mixed with spices. She pours it out. Indeed the wicked of the earth drink and drink it to its very dregs.

But I will declare this forever: I will sing praises to the God of Jacoba.

I will cut off all the horns of the wicked, but the horns of the righteous shall be lifted up.