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A song for pilgrims going up to Jerusalem.
1 Many enemies have attacked from the time I was young. Let everyone in Israel say:
2 Many enemies have attacked from the time I was young, but they never defeated me.
3 They beat me on my back, leaving long furrows as if it had been ploughed by a farmer.
4 But the Lord does what is right: he has cut me free from the ropes of the wicked.
5 May everyone who hates Zion be driven back in humiliating defeat.
6 May they be like grass that grows on a roof that withers before it can be harvested,
7 There's not enough even for a reaper to hold, not enough even for the binder to bind.
8 May passers-by not say to them, “The blessing of the Lord be on you; we bless you in the name of the Lord.”