A song for pilgrims ascending to Jerusalem.

¹From my earliest youth my enemies have persecuted me. Let all Israel repeat this: ²From my earliest youth my enemies have persecuted me, but they have never defeated me. ³My back is covered with cuts, as if a farmer had plowed long furrows. ⁴But the Lord is good; he has cut me free from the ropes of the ungodly. ⁵May all who hate Jerusalem be turned back in shameful defeat. ⁶May they be as useless as grass on a rooftop, turning yellow when only half grown, ⁷ignored by the harvester, despised by the binder. ⁸And may those who pass by refuse to give them this blessing: “The Lord bless you; we bless you in the Lord’s name.”