1 As, the hart, cometh panting up to the channels of water, So my soul, panteth for thee, O God.

2 My soul thirsteth for God, for a GOD who liveth,—When shall I enter in, and see the face of God?

3 My tears have been my food day and night, While it hath been said unto me all the day, Where is thy God?

4 These 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.

5 Why 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.

6 My 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.

7 Roaring deep unto roaring deep, is calling, at the voice of thy cataracts, All thy breakers and thy rolling waves, over me, have passed.

8 By 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.

9 I will say onto GOD,—my rock, Wherefore hast thou forgotten me? Wherefore in gloom should I go, because of oppression by the enemy?

10 With a crushing of my bones, have my adversaries reproached me,—While they keep saying unto me all the day, Where is thy God?

11 Why 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.