A song for going up to the Temple. All my life enemies have attacked me. Say it again, Israel.

All my life enemies have attacked me, but they have never defeated me.

They beat me until I had deep cuts. My back looked like a freshly plowed field.

But the Lord does what is right; he cut the ropes and set me free from those wicked people.

May those who hate Zion be put to shame. May they be stopped and chased away.

They will be like grass on a flat roof that dies before it has time to grow.

The one who goes to harvest it will not find enough to cut and stack.

May no one walking by those wicked people ever say, "May the Lord bless you! We bless you in the name of the Lord."