A song of degrees.

1 In my distress I cried to 𐤉𐤄𐤅𐤄,
And He answered me.

2 𐤉𐤄𐤅𐤄, deliver my being from false lips,
From a treacherous tongue.

3 What would one give to you,
Or what would one do to you,
O treacherous tongue?

4 Sharp arrows of a mighty man,
With coals of the broom-wood!

5 Woe to me for I have sojourned in Mesheḵ,
I have dwelt among the tents of Qĕḏar!

6 My being has dwelt too long
With him who hates peace.

7 I am peace;
But when I speak, they are for fighting.