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To the director. A contemplative song of the sons of Korach. |
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As a deer pants for the waters, |
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So my soul pants for you, God. |
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My soul thirsts and longs within me, |
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Thirsts for God, the living God. |
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When will I come before God’s face, |
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When before God to appear? |
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Where’s your God? all day they ask me; |
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Day and night my food is tears. |
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Soul outpouring, I remember |
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When I passed through with the throng. |
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To God’s house we all went feasting |
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With loud praise and joyous song. |
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Why so downcast, soul within me? |
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Why such deep perturbation? |
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Hope in God, for yet I’ll praise him, |
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For his face is salvation. |
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Oh, my God, my soul within me |
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Is downcast, and so I will |
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Now remember you from Jordan, |
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From Hermon, and Mizar Hill. |
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Deep to deep, callingprofoundly |
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At your sound of waterspouts; |
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All your waves and churning billows |
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Over me flowin and out. |
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Day by day Yahweh pronounces |
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Faithfulness and love so kind. |
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I pray to the God of my life; |
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His song is with me by night. |
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I will say to my God, my rock, |
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Why have you forgotten me? |
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Why do you let me go mourning, |
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Squeezed tight by the enemy? |
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How they taunt me, my oppressors, |
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At the shatt’ring of my bones. |
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All day long they keep on saying, |
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Where’s your God? You’re all alone! |
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Why so downcast, soul within me? |
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Why such anguished, deep distress? |
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Hope in God, for yet I’ll praise him; |
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My God, saviour of my face. |
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