Psalm 9

A Psalm of David, upon Muthlabben [unintelligible]:

I give thanks to God with all my heart. I recount Your wonders, take delight and pride in You, and sing about Your great name. When my enemies return and pursue me they will fail, lost for facing You. You have done right by me and satisfied me, placing an upright judge on the bench. You made other nations strangers, lost their evil names, and wiped them off the face of the earth. My enemies have forever stopped fighting; their cities are lost and ruined. (God sits, forever dealing justice from His bench; He adjudicates the earth rightly and judges its nations fairly. God is a fortress for the unprotected and a refuge in troubling times.) They will know Your name and swear by You and show that You have not wasted Your guidance. (They will sing to God, seated in Zion, and they will tell other nations about His greatnesses: He is bloodthirsty and remembers the screams of the vanquished. God has mercy on me, seeing my humiliation in my hatred, my hubris, my date at death’s door. For all that I shout Your praise at Zion’s gates and I rejoice in my own rescue. Others drowned in a pit created at the start of all this, caught their feet in their own nets. God makes His justice and His handiwork known as evil knocks: understanding, forever. Evil returns to its source and the nations forget God. The wretched will never forget the hope of the destitute, lost forever. Rise up, God, and help mankind, which judges others right under your nose. They will know other nations; they are mere men, forever.

 


A psalm of David, upon the death of Labben, his enemy:

I give thanks to God with all my heart. I recount your feats, alarming and proud. I sing your fearsome name as you turn on me, enemy; you lost facing God. You fought for your vindication and satisfaction and for your strange men before a righteous judge on the bench; their names evil and lost, and they are wiped from the earth. You’ve ceased fighting and your cities are lost and ruined because of God’s eternal justice, meted out from the bench. He adjudicates rightly and judges the nations of the world fairly, an unvanquished fortress. I know your name and curse it because God wasted His guidance on you. He is bloodthirsty and remembers the screams of the vanquished. God has mercy on me, seeing humiliation in my hatred, my hubris, my own date at death’s door. You drowned in a pit present at creation with your feet tangled in your own net. God makes His justice and His handiwork known as evil knocks knowingly, eternally, but you forgot in Sheol. Men judge one another right under God’s nose but they cannot look beyond their own nation; we are all mere men, forever.

 


A psalm of David, upon the death of his son (Absalom, from whom he once fled):

I give thanks to God with all my heart. I recount Your wonders, take delight and pride in You, and sing about Your great name. When my enemies return and pursue me they will fail, lost for facing You. O, God, many are those who task me and rise up against me; many even tell me that there is no salvation for me through You. Selah. You have done right by me and satisfied me, placing an upright judge on the bench. You, o God, are my shield, my honor, the one who holds my head high. You made other nations strangers, lost their evil names, and wiped them off the face of the earth. My enemies have forever stopped fighting; their cities are lost and ruined. God sits, forever dealing justice from His bench; He adjudicates the earth rightly and judges its nations fairly. God is a fortress for the unprotected and a refuge in troubling times. They will know Your name and swear by You and show that You have not wasted Your guidance. They will sing to God, seated in Zion, and they will tell other nations about His greatnesses: He is bloodthirsty and remembers the screams of the vanquished. And with my voice I call out to God, who answers me from His holy mountain. Selah. God has mercy on me, seeing my humiliation in my hatred, my hubris, my date at death’s door. For all that I shout Your praise at Zion’s gates and I rejoice in my own rescue. Others drowned in a pit created at the start of all this, caught their feet in their own nets, but I lay myself down to sleep and wake up again because God supports me. God makes His justice and His handiwork known as evil knocks: understanding, forever. Evil returns to its source and the nations forget God. The wretched will never forget the hope of the destitute, lost forever. I do not fear the nations that surround me. Rise up, God, and help mankind, which judges others right under your nose. Rise up, God. Rescue me, my God. Smack the cheek of my enemies and break the teeth of the wicked. They will know other nations; they are mere men, forever. Deliverance comes from You, God, and your blessings go to Your nation. Selah.


 


A psalm of David, upon the death of his infant son, again:

I recall what a wonder you were. I took pride and delight in you and sing-songed your name. You were perfect, you fulfilled my hopes, and you saw the world clear-eyed. Everyone else was irrelevant, as if wiped from the face of the earth. My enemies: Are they still fighting? Do their cities still stand? They will know your names and swear by you; your life has not been wasted. I don’t want a refuge; I just don’t want troubled times. God adjudicates rightly and judges the nations of the world fairly: He adjudicates rightly? He is bloodthirsty, remembers the screams of the vanquished; He sees my humiliation, my hubris, my own date at death’s door. I shout your praises at Zion’s daughter’s gate: Zion still has her child. No rejoicing, no rescue. Drowned in a pit created at the start of all this, feet caught in the nets. God makes His justice and His handiwork known as evil knocks: Understanding? Never. I will never lose the hope of the destitute though it seems gone for mere men forever.


 

A psalm of David, seeking:

I give my thanks to Whom, and how? I don’t remember what I don’t remember and I don’t know how to react. I recount Whose wonders by rote, wishing I could understand, emote, sing. When my enemies return and I pursue refuge they will fail, lost for facing Whom? Who has done right by me and satisfied me, and how? You made other nations strangers, lost their evil names, and wiped them off the face of the earth. I am a stranger, too. My enemies have forever stopped fighting; their cities are lost and ruined. They will remember. Who else will remember? Will I, when I shout at Zion’s gates? Will I, when I rejoice in my redemption? Whose is justice and Whose handiwork known as evil knocks? Understanding forever? Evil returns to its source and the nations forget. We—who?—are mere men, forever.




A Psalm of David, on [Unintelligible]: 

Ode, a lardon. Aye! Back, all lea bees! A sop rankles nifty louts. As my heavy Elsa Bacchus immerses my hellion bitch—you, boy, bye!—I hold Icarus-Bey: oaf, doom-panic. Key, acid, tame shape, a tee: evade a knee, shave with talc. Say: show faith. Say: deck, garret, gummy. Bought a rush, an ash, mama, hit a loam-lam, vied. Heyo! Eve, taboo, her boat lanes talk, ever yawn. Taste a bud, zinc, rum. Hey, ma fought her own eye: leo and lamb yeasay. A koan in lapis paté with queso. Vie! Hooey! Spot a table base, deck, yard, and loom by my shearling. Me she gave, lay, damned me, gave. Elite oat-bats are a vibe. Too hoo! Back o’er there some icky loser bought a door. Seek a don, eye some roulade on high-o! Shave, sew-on, haggard oompah meme. All a load for keyed ore-shed, my moat, in Sahara lost. A cock saw a cut in-eye-my/on-a-beam. And any odds-on, irate honey bee’s sunny mero-mums are a mauve hit. Lemon as pear, alkyl tea, chelate. Ick! Bah! Sorry. But sea on a keel, hobby shooters catch a bee. Hugo embeds a hat as you brush, tease, you tame anew. Kneel, cadelle! Raglan—oh, damn spot!—as a bop-all cop-out. No case. Rush, he goes lazy. Oeuvre, oar, sass. I’m lost, old coal-going sack. Hey, yellow him! Keel over, lean in a seance, ye socks over yon. Teak—what?—tikka, Niamh. A nematode-bod lad. Coo, ma, dough nigh. All y’all say enough, yeesh. I put, you go, in all-pine icksy toddy nigh moor. All lay him yet to go in. Shimmer. Selah.