A poem of Dawiḏ. A prayer when he was in the cave.
1 I cry out to 𐤉𐤄𐤅𐤄 with my voice;
I pray to 𐤉𐤄𐤅𐤄 with my voice.
2 I pour out my complaint before Him;
I declare before Him my distress.
3 When my spirit grew faint within me,
Then You know my path.
In the way in which I walk
They have hidden a trap for me.
4 Look to the right hand and see,
And no one is concerned for me;
No refuge remains to me;
No one inquires after my being.
5 I cried out to You, O 𐤉𐤄𐤅𐤄:
I said, “You are my refuge,
My portion in the land of the living.
6 “Listen to my cry,
For I am brought very low;
Deliver me from my persecutors,
For they are too strong for me.
7 “Bring my being out of prison,
To give thanks to Your Name.
Let the righteous gather around me,
Because You deal kindly with me.”