to the/ choirmaster al- tashcheth a psalm of/ Asaph a songWe give thanks to you, God. We give thanks, for your Name is near. Men tell about your wondrous works.When I choose the appointed time, I will judge blamelessly.The earth and all its inhabitants quake. I firmly hold its pillars.I said to the arrogant, “Don’t boast!” I said to the wicked, “Don’t lift up the horn.Don’t lift up your horn on high. Don’t speak with a stiff neck.”For neither from the east, nor from the west, nor yet from the south, comes exaltation.But God is the judge. He puts down one, and lifts up another.For in Yahweh’s hand there is a cup, full of foaming wine mixed with spices. He pours it out. Indeed the wicked of the earth drink and drink it to its very dregs.But I will declare this forever: I will sing praises to the God of Jacob.I will cut off all the horns of the wicked, but the horns of the righteous shall be lifted up.
English text: World English Bible (public domain). Morphological data from STEPBible TIPNR, Tyndale House, Cambridge. Licensed under CC BY 4.0.