To the Overseer, on `The Hind of the Morning.' -- A Psalm of David. My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me? Far from my salvation, The words of my roaring?
And I -- I have said in my haste, `I have been cut off from before Thine eyes,' But Thou hast heard the voice of my supplications, In my crying unto Thee.
Sing, O heavens, and joy, O earth, And break forth, O mountains, with singing, For comforted hath Jehovah His people, And His afflicted ones He doth pity.
And thou, son of man, say unto the house of Israel: Rightly ye have spoken, saying: Surely our transgressions and our sins `are' on us, And in them we are wasting away, How, then, do we live?