诗篇 127

1Unless the Lordbuilds the house, who build it labor in vain. Unless the Lordguards the city, the watchman wakes in vain. 2In vain you rise early, and finish so late, and so eat sorrow’s bread; for he cares for his loved ones in their sleep. 3Children are a gift of the , Lordthe fruit of the womb, a reward. 4Like arrows wielded by warriors, are the children of youth.