A song for pilgrims ascending to Jerusalem.

129From my earliest youth my enemies have persecuted me. Let all Israel repeat this.

2From my earliest youth my enemies have persecuted me, but they have never defeated me.

3My back is covered with cuts, as if a farmer had plowed long furrows.

4But the Lord is good; he has cut me free from the ropes of the ungodly.

5May all who hate Jerusalem[1] be turned back in shameful defeat.

6May they be as useless as grass on a rooftop, turning yellow when only half grown,

7ignored by the harvester, despised by the binder.

8And may those who pass by refuse to give them this blessing. “The Lord bless you; we bless you in the Lord’s name.”