Psalms, 6

To the director on stringed instruments on the lower octave.^*1 A melody of David.

¹ O Jehovah, do not in your anger reprove me, And do not in your rage correct me.

² Show me favor, O Jehovah, for I am fading away. Heal me, O Jehovah, for my bones have been disturbed.

³ Yes, my own soul has been very much disturbed; And you, O Jehovah—how long?

⁴ Do return, O Jehovah, do rescue my soul; Save me for the sake of your loving-kindness.^*1

⁵ For in death there is no mention^*1 of you; In Sheʹol^*2 who will laud you?

⁶ I have grown weary with my sighing; All night long I make my couch swim; With my tears I make my own divan overflow.

⁷ From vexation my eye has become weak, It has grown old because of all those showing hostility to me.

⁸ Get away from me, all YOU practicers of what is hurtful, For Jehovah will certainly hear the sound of my weeping.

⁹ Jehovah will indeed hear my request for favor; Jehovah himself will accept my own prayer.

¹⁰ All my enemies will be very much ashamed and disturbed; They will turn back, they will be ashamed instantly.