“Much have they oppressed me since my youth,” * let Israel say,

“Much have they oppressed me since my youth, * but they have not overcome me.

Upon my back the plowmen plowed; * upon it they made their furrows long.”

    May Yahweh the Upright snap * the yoke of the wicked!

    May they retreat in disgrace, * all who hate Zion!

May they be like grass on the housetops, * which in front of the plucker withers away,

so that the reaper cannot fill his hand, * nor the gatherer of grain collect a load,

nor passers by say, * “Yahweh's blessing be yours; * We bless you in the name of Yahweh!”