诗篇 120

1In distress I cried to the , Lordand he answered me. 2“Deliver me, , Lordfrom the lip that is false and the tongue that is crafty.” 3What shall he give to you, you tongue that is crafty? What yet shall he give to you? 4Arrows of warrior, sharpened, with glowing broom coals together. 5Woe is me that I sojourn in Meshech, that I live by the tents of Kedar. 6Already too long have I dwelt among those who hate peace.