To the Chief Musician. On "the Hind of the Dawn." A Melody of David. My GOD, my GOD, why hast thou forsaken me? Far from saving me, The words of my loud lamentation?
Neither made they outcry unto me, in their heart, although they kept on howling upon their beds, over corn and new wine, they gathered themselves together, they rebelled against me.
Carried away captive is Judah—because of oppression, and because of great servitude, She, hath remained among the nations, hath found no place of rest,—All her pursuers, have overtaken her, between straits.
Thy sons, have fainted, They lie at the head of all the streets like a gazelle in a net,—Who, indeed, are full of The indignation of Yahweh The rebuke of thy God.
And, when the time of mourning had passed, David sent and received her into his house, and she became his wife, and bare him a son. But the thing which David had done was wicked in the eyes of Yahweh.
Because of his iniquitous gain, was I wroth—and smote him Hiding myself that I might be wroth,—But he went on turning aside in the way of his own heart.