Psalms.
Chapter 127.
A SONG OF THE ASCENTS. BY SOLOMON. If YHWH does not build the house, || Its builders have labored at it in vain, || If YHWH does not watch a city, || A watchman has awoken in vain. 
Vain for you who are rising early, || Who delay sitting, eating the bread of griefs, || So He gives sleep to His beloved one. 
Behold, sons are an inheritance of YHWH, || The fruit of the womb is a reward. 
As arrows in the hand of a mighty one, || So are the sons of the young men. 
O the blessedness of the man || Who has filled his quiver with them, || They are not ashamed, || For they speak with enemies in the gate! 
