Psalms 144
1 Of David. Blest be the Lord my rock, who trains my hands for war, my fingers for fighting.
Psalmus David. Adversus Goliath. Benedictus Dominus Deus meus, qui docet manus meas ad prælium, et digitos meos ad bellum.
2 My rock and my fortress, my tower, my deliverer, my shield, behind whom I take refuge, who lays nations low at my feet.
Misericordia mea et refugium meum; susceptor meus et liberator meus; protector meus, et in ipso speravi, qui subdit populum meum sub me.
3 Lord, what are mortals that you care for them, humans, that you think of them?
Domine, quid est homo, quia innotuisti ei? aut filius hominis, quia reputas eum?
4 They are like a breath, their days as a shadow that passes.
Homo vanitati similis factus est; dies ejus sicut umbra prætereunt.
5 Lord, bow your heavens and come down: touch the hills, so that they smoke.
Domine, inclina cælos tuos, et descende; tange montes, et fumigabunt.
6 Flash forth lightning and scatter them, your arrows send forth and confound them.
Fulgura coruscationem, et dissipabis eos; emitte sagittas tuas, et conturbabis eos.
7 Stretch out your hand from on high; pluck me out of the mighty waters, out of the hands of foreigners,
Emitte manum tuam de alto: eripe me, et libera me de aquis multis, de manu filiorum alienorum:
8 who speak with the mouth of falsehood, and lift their right hand to swear lies.
quorum os locutum est vanitatem, et dextera eorum dextera iniquitatis.
9 O God, a new song I would sing you, on a ten-stringed harp make you music.
Deus, canticum novum cantabo tibi; in psalterio decachordo psallam tibi.
10 For to kings you give the victory, and David your servant you save.
Qui das salutem regibus, qui redemisti David servum tuum de gladio maligno,
11 Snatch me from the cruel sword, rescue me from the hand of foreigners, who speak with the mouth of falsehood, and lift their right hand to swear lies.
eripe me, et erue me de manu filiorum alienorum, quorum os locutum est vanitatem, et dextera eorum dextera iniquitatis.
12 May our sons in their youth be as plants well tended: our daughters like cornices carved as in palaces.
Quorum filii sicut novellæ plantationes in juventute sua; filiæ eorum compositæ, circumornatæ ut similitudo templi.
13 May our barns be bursting with produce of all kinds. In the fields may our sheep bear by thousands and ten thousands.
Promptuaria eorum plena, eructantia ex hoc in illud; oves eorum fœtosæ, abundantes in egressibus suis;
14 May our cattle be fat, our walls unbreached, may no cry of distress ring in our streets.
boves eorum crassæ. Non est ruina maceriæ, neque transitus, neque clamor in plateis eorum.
15 Happy the people who fares so well: and so fares the people whose God is the Lord.
Beatum dixerunt populum cui hæc sunt; beatus populus cujus Dominus Deus ejus.
