< اَلْمَزَامِيرُ 131 >

تَرْنِيمَةُ ٱلْمَصَاعِدِ. لِدَاوُدَ يَارَبُّ، لَمْ يَرْتَفِعْ قَلْبِي، وَلَمْ تَسْتَعْلِ عَيْنَايَ، وَلَمْ أَسْلُكْ فِي ٱلْعَظَائِمِ، وَلَا فِي عَجَائِبَ فَوْقِي. ١ 1
A Song of degrees. Of David. Jehovah, my heart is not haughty, nor mine eyes lofty; neither do I exercise myself in great matters, and in things too wonderful for me.
بَلْ هَدَّأْتُ وَسَكَّتُّ نَفْسِي كَفَطِيمٍ نَحْوَ أُمِّهِ. نَفْسِي نَحْوِي كَفَطِيمٍ. ٢ 2
Surely I have restrained and composed my soul, like a weaned child with its mother: my soul within me is as a weaned child.
لِيَرْجُ إِسْرَائِيلُ ٱلرَّبَّ مِنَ ٱلْآنَ وَإِلَى ٱلدَّهْرِ. ٣ 3
Let Israel hope in Jehovah, from henceforth and for evermore.

< اَلْمَزَامِيرُ 131 >