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  • Psalm 55

    Psalm 55

    For the music leader. With stringed instruments. A maskil of David.

    55 God, listen to my prayer;
        don’t avoid my request!
    Pay attention! Answer me!
        I can’t sit still while complaining.
        I’m beside myself
            over the enemy’s noise,
            at the wicked person’s racket,
            because they bring disaster on me
            and harass me furiously.

    My heart pounds in my chest
        because death’s terrors have reached me.
    Fear and trembling have come upon me;
        I’m shaking all over.
    I say to myself,
        I wish I had wings like a dove!
        I’d fly away and rest.
        I’d run so far away!
        I’d live in the desert. Selah
        I’d hurry to my hideout,
        far from the rushing wind and storm.

    Baffle them, my Lord!
        Confuse their language
        because I see violence and conflict in the city.
    10 Day and night they make their rounds on its walls,
        and evil and misery live inside it.
    11 Disaster lives inside it;
        oppression and fraud never leave the town square.

    12 It’s not an enemy that is insulting me—
        I could handle that.
    It’s not someone who hates me
        who is exalted over me—
        I could hide from them.
    13 No. It’s you, my equal,
        my close companion, my good friend!
    14 It was so pleasant when
        together we entered God’s house with the crowd.

    15 Let death devastate my enemies;
        let them go to the grave alive
            because evil lives with them—
            even inside them!
    16 But I call out to God,
        and the Lord will rescue me.
    17 At evening, morning, and midday
        I complain and moan
        so that God will hear my voice.
    18 He saves me, unharmed, from my struggle,
        though there are many who are out to get me.
    19 God, who is enthroned from ancient days,
        will hear and humble them Selah
            because they don’t change
            and they don’t worship God.

    20 My friend attacked his allies,
        breaking his covenant.
    21 Though his talk is smoother than butter,
            war is in his heart;
        though his words are more silky than oil,
            they are really drawn swords:
    22 “Cast your burden on the Lord
        he will support you!
        God will never let the righteous be shaken!”

    23 But you, God, bring the wicked
        down to the deepest pit.
        Let bloodthirsty and treacherous people
        not live out even half their days.
            But me? I trust in you!