Psalms 120

1 The song of greces. Whanne Y was set in tribulacioun, Y criede to the Lord; and he herde me.

A Song of Degrees. In mine affliction I cried to the Lord, and he listened to me.

2 Lord, delyuere thou my soule fro wickid lippis; and fro a gileful tunge.

Deliver my soul, O Lord, from unjust lips, and from a deceitful tongue.

3 What schal be youun to thee, ether what schal be leid to thee; to a gileful tunge?

What should be given to you, and what should be added to you, for [your] crafty tongue?

4 Scharpe arowis of the myyti; with colis that maken desolat.

Sharpened weapons of the mighty, with coals of the desert.

5 Allas to me! for my dwelling in an alien lond is maad long, Y dwellide with men dwellinge in Cedar; my soule was myche a comelyng.

Woe is me, that my sojourning is prolonged; I have tabernacled amongst the tents of Kedar.

6 I was pesible with hem that hatiden pees;

My soul has long been a sojourner;

7 whanne Y spak to hem, thei ayenseiden me with outen cause.

I was peaceful amongst them that hated peace; when I spoke to them, they warred against me without a cause.