129
A song for pilgrims going up to Jerusalem.
Many enemies have attacked from the time I was young. Let everyone in Israel say:
Many enemies have attacked from the time I was young, but they never defeated me.
They beat me on my back, leaving long furrows as if it had been ploughed by a farmer.
But the Lord does what is right: he has cut me free from the ropes of the wicked.
May everyone who hates Zion be driven back in humiliating defeat.
May they be like grass that grows on a roof that withers before it can be harvested,
There's not enough even for a reaper to hold, not enough even for the binder to bind.* The image is of something that's completely useless.
May passers-by not say to them, “The blessing of the Lord be on you; we bless you in the name of the Lord.”

*129:7 The image is of something that's completely useless.