Psalm 120
A song of ascents.
In distress I cried to the Lord,
and he answered me.
“Deliver me, Lord,
from the lip that is false
and the tongue that is crafty.”
What shall he give to you,
you tongue that is crafty?
What yet shall he give to you?
Arrows of warrior, sharpened,
with glowing broom coals together.
Woe is me that I sojourn in Meshech,
that I live by the tents of Kedar.
Already too long have I dwelt
among those who hate peace.
I am for peace:
but when I speak of it,
they are for war.