111 To the Overseer.—By David. In Jehovah I trusted, how say ye to my soul, 'They moved 'to' Thy mountain for the bird? 2 For lo, the wicked tread a bow, They have prepared their arrow on the string, To shoot in darkness at the upright in heart. 3 When the foundations are destroyed, The righteous—what hath he done?
4 'Jehovah 'is' in his holy temple: Jehovah—in the heavens 'is' His throne. His eyes see—His eyelids try the sons of men. 5 Jehovah the righteous doth try. And the wicked and the lover of violence, Hath His soul hated, 6 He poureth on the wicked snares, fire, and brimstone, And a horrible wind 'is' the portion of their cup. 7 For righteous 'is' Jehovah, Righteousness He hath loved, The upright doth His countenance see!'
