For the director of music. A maskil of the Sons of Korah.
As the hart pants for water and streams that are flowing,
it's you, God, my heart would embrace.
O my soul thirsts for God, who is living, all-knowing.
God, when can I come see your face?
I am feeding on tears, night and day, that I'm bawling;
they taunt, Where's your God? all day long.
My heart's broken and heavy as I am recalling
the crowds at your house, full of song.
O my soul, why despair with such grievous emotion?
And why are you restless in me?
I will hope, wait on God with pure, utter devotion
and praise for salvations to be.
O my God, I'm discouraged, but I will remember —
yes, I will remember you still!
From the source of the Jordan to Hermon's high splendor,
yes, even from Mizar's small hill.
As the deep calls to deep — raging waters are driven
by billows and waves of despair.
For by day has the LORD's loving-kindness been given;
by night, comes his song as a prayer.
I will say to my Rock, Why do you, God, forget me?
Why let me, God, wander in grief?
Like the crushing of bones, my foes taunt and beset me
by saying, Where's your God's relief?
O my soul, why so downcast? What's caused your vexations?
And why so uneasy in me?
Because I shall yet praise him in hope of salvations;
my God and my Savior is he.
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