Yahweh, do not punish me in Your rage,
or reprove me in the heat of anger.
Your arrows have pierced deep,
Your hand has pressed down on me;
no soundness in my flesh now You are angry,
no health in my bones, because of my sin.
Psalm 38:1-3 Jerusalem Bible
Lord, all that I long for is known to You,
my sighing is no secret from You.
I said, ‘I will watch how I behave,
and not let my tongue lead me into sin;
I will keep a muzzle on my mouth
as long as the wicked man is near me’.
I stayed dumb, silent, speechless,
though the sight of him thriving made torment increase.
So tell me, Lord, what can I expect?
My hope is in You.
Free me from all my sins,
do not make me the butt of idiots.
I am dumb, I speak no more,
since You Yourself have been at work.
Yahweh, hear my prayer,
listen to my cry for help,
do not stay deaf to my crying.
I am Your guest, and only for a time,
a nomad like all my ancestors.
Happy the man who puts
his trust in Yahweh,
and does not side with rebels
who stray after false gods.
How many wonders You have done for us,
Yahweh my God!
How many plans You have made for us;
You have no equal!
I want to proclaim them again and again,
but they are more than I can count.
You who wanted no sacrifice or oblation
opened my ear,
You asked no holocaust or sacrifice for sin;
then I said, ‘Here I am! I am coming!’
In the scroll of the Book am I not commanded
to obey Your will?
My God, I have always loved Your Law
from the depths of my being.
I have always proclaimed the righteousness of Yahweh
in the Great Assembly;
nor do I mean to stop proclaiming,
as You know well.
I have never kept Your righteousness to myself,
but have spoken of Your faithfulness and saving help;
I have made no secret of Your love and faithfulness
in the Great Assembly.
As a doe longs for running streams,
so longs my soul for You, my God.
My soul thirst for God, the God of life;
when shall I go to see the face of God?
I have no food but tears, day and night;
and all day long men say to me,
‘Where is your God?’
and my soul melts within me:
I am on my way to the wonderful Tent,
to the house of God,
among cries of joy and praise
and an exultant throng.
When my soul is downcast within me,
I think of you;
from the land of Jordan and Hermón,
of you, humble mountain!
Deep is calling to deep
as your cataracts roar;
all your waves, your breakers,
have rolled over me.
In the daytime may Yahweh
command His love to come,
and by night may His song be on my lips,
a prayer to the God of my life!