My soul longs for your salvation; * for your word I wait.

My eyes grow bleary watching for your word; * “When will it comfort me?”

For I have become like one weeping from smoke, * yet I have not forgotten your statutes.

How many are the days of your servant? * When will you do judgment on my persecutors?

The proud have dug pits for me, * having no mind for your law.

All your commandments are truth, * but by falsehood they persecute me; help me!

They almost wiped me off the earth, * but I did not abandon your precepts.

In your kindness preserve my life, * that I may keep to the terms you declare.