A Song of Degrees. In mine affliction I cried to the Lord, and he hearkened to me.
Deliver my soul, O Lord, from unjust lips, and from a deceitful tongue.
What should be given to thee, and what should be added to thee, for [thy] crafty tongue?
Sharpened weapons of the mighty, with coals of the desert.
Woe is me, that my is prolonged; I have tabernacled among the tents of Kedar.
My soul has long been a sojourner;
I was peaceable among them that hated peace; when I spoke to them, they warred against me without a cause.