Psalm
88 Tuesday Midday 4. Friday
Compline
Yahweh, my God, my Savior, * day and night
I cry to you.
May my prayer come before you; * turn your
ear to my cry.
For my soul is full of
troubles, * and my life has reached Sheol.
I am listed as gone down to
the Pit; * I have become a strengthless man.
In Death-Land is my mat * just like the slaughtered * my couch is
in the Grave,
where you remember them no longer, * since they are cut off from
your love.
You have plunged me into the lowest Pit, * into regions dark and
deep.
Your rage weighs heavy on me, * and with all your outbursts you
afflict me.
You have taken my companions
away from me, * made me an abomination to them.
Imprisoned, I cannot escape;
* my eyes grow dim through affliction.
I call to you daily, Yahweh; * I spread out my hands to you.
Do you work marvels for the dead; * do the departed rise up
to praise you?
Is your kindness declared in the Grave, * your fidelity in
Abaddon?
Are your marvels made known in the Darkness, * your
generosity in the Land of Forgetfulness?
But I am calling to you, Yahweh, * at dawn let my prayer come
before you.
Why, Yahweh, do you rebuff
me; * why do you turn your face from me?
Afflicted and groaning, I
die; * I suffer from the terrors of your torture.
Your furies have swept over me; * your dread assaults have
destroyed me.
They surround me like a flood * all day long * they close in on
me when I'm alone.
You have taken far away my
friendly neighbors; * my only companion is the Darkness.
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