A song for pilgrims ascending to Jerusalem.
1From my earliest youth my enemies have persecuted me.
Let all Israel repeat this:
2From my earliest youth my enemies have persecuted me,
but they have never defeated me.
3My back is covered with cuts,
as if a farmer had plowed long furrows.
4But the Lord is good;
he has cut me free from the ropes of the ungodly.
5May all who hate Jerusalem
be turned back in shameful defeat.
6May they be as useless as grass on a rooftop,
turning yellow when only half grown,
7ignored by the harvester,
despised by the binder.
8And may those who pass by
refuse to give them this blessing:
“The Lord bless you;
we bless you in the Lord’s name.”