1 ¶ As, the hart, cometh panting up to the channels of water, So my soul, panteth for thee, O God. 2My soul thirsteth for God, for a GOD who liveth,—When shall I enter in, and see the face of God? 3My tears have been my food day and night, While it hath been said unto me all the day, Where is thy God? 4These things, I keep calling to mind, and pouring out, over me, my own soul, For I used to cross over with a crowd, Lead them in procession up to the house of God, With the voice of shouting and praise,—a throng keeping festival. 5Why shouldst thou be cast down, O my soul? And [why] shouldst thou moan over me? Wait thou for God, for yet shall I praise him, As the triumph of my presence.

6My God! over myself, my soul is cast down,—For this cause, will I remember thee from the land of Jordan, And the Hermons, from the hill Mizar. 7Roaring deep unto roaring deep, is calling, at the voice of thy cataracts, All thy breakers and thy rolling waves, over me, have passed. 8By day, will Yahweh command his lovingkindness, And, in the night, shall His song be with me, My prayer be to the GOD of my life. 9I will say onto GOD,—my rock, Wherefore hast thou forgotten me? Wherefore in gloom should I go, because of oppression by the enemy? 10With a crushing of my bones, have my adversaries reproached me,—While they keep saying unto me all the day, Where is thy God? 11Why shouldst thou be sat down, O my soul? And why shouldst thou moan over me? Wait thou for God, for yet shall I praise him, As the triumph of my presence and my God.