A song of degrees.
1 I shall lift up my eyes
Unto You who dwell in the shamayim.
2 See, as the eyes of servants
Are toward the hand of their masters,
As the eyes of a female servant
Are toward the hand of her mistress,
So are our eyes toward 𐤉𐤄𐤅𐤄 our Elohim,
Until He shows favour to us.
3 Show favour to us,
O 𐤉𐤄𐤅𐤄, show favour to us!
For we are exceedingly filled with mockery.
4 Our being is exceedingly filled
With the scoffing of those who are at ease,
With the mockery of the proud.
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