To the chief Musician, A Mizmor of David.
IN Yahuah put I my trust: how say ye to my soul, Flee as a bird to your mountain?
For, lo, the wicked bend their bow, they make ready their arrow upon the string, that they may privily shoot at the yashariy in heart.
If the foundations be destroyed, what can the righteous do?
Yahuah is in his holy Temple, Yahuah's throne is in heaven: his eyes behold, his eyelids try, the children of men.
Yahuah tries the righteous: but the wicked and him that loves violence his soul hates.
Upon the wicked he shall rain snares, fire and brimstone, and a horrible tempest: this shall be the portion of their cup.
For the righteous Yahuah loves righteousness; his countenance beholds the upright.