Psalm 120

From ChoralWiki
Jump to: navigation, search
 P S A L M S110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130

General Information

The first two verses are used in the gradual, Ad Dominum, for the Sunday within the Octave of Corpus Christi (now OT 8ab in the three-year lectionary).

Settings by composers

See also Ad Dominum (Gradual), for settings of vv. 1-2 as the gradual for the Sunday within the Octave of Corpus Christi , (now OT 8ab in the three-year lectionary).

Other settings possibly not included in the manual list above

Text and translations

Clementine Vulgate (Psalm 119)

Latin.png Latin text

1  Canticum graduum. Ad Dominum cum tribularer clamavi, et exaudivit me.
2  Domine, libera animam meam a labiis iniquis et a lingua dolosa.
3  Quid detur tibi, aut quid apponatur tibi ad linguam dolosam?
4  Sagittae potentis acutae, cum carbonibus desolatoriis.
5  Heu mihi, quia incolatus meus prolongatus est! habitavi cum habitantibus
Cedar;
6  multum incola fuit anima mea.
7  Cum his qui oderunt pacem
  eram pacificus; cum loquebar illis, impugnabant me gratis.

Church of England 1662 Book of Common Prayer

English.png English text

1  When I was in trouble I called upon the Lord: and he heard me.
2  Deliver my soul, O Lord, from lying lips: and from a deceitful tongue.
3  What reward shall be given or done unto thee, thou false tongue:
  even mighty and sharp arrows, with hot burning coals.
4  Woe is me, that I am constrained to dwell with Mesech: and to have my habitation among the tents of Kedar.
5  My soul hath long dwelt among them:
  that are enemies unto peace.
6  I labour for peace, but when I speak unto them thereof: they make them ready to battle.

Káldi fordítás

Hungarian.png Hungarian text

Ének a fölmenetekre. Az Úrhoz kiálték, midőn szorongattatám: és meghallgata engem,
Uram! szabadítsd meg lelkemet a csalárd ajkaktól és az álnok nyelvtől.
Mi adatik neked, vagy mi lesz jutalmad az álnok nyelvért?
mely olyan, mint a hatalmasnak éles nyilai, és pusztító széntűz.
Jaj nekem, mert zarándokságom meghosszabbíttatott, Cédár lakóival lakom, oly sokáig zarándok az én lelkem.
A békegyűlölőkkel békeséges vagyok; mégis ha szólok nekik, ok nélkül ostromolnak engemet.

Metrical 'Old Version' (Thomas Sternhold)

English.png English text

In trouble and in thrall
Unto the Lord I call,
And he doth me comfort:
Deliver me, I pray,
From lying lips alway,
And tongues of false report.

What ’vantage or what thing
Gett’st thou thus for to sting,
Thou false and flatt’ring liar?
Thy tongue doth hurt, ’tis seen,
No less than arrows keen,
Or hot consuming fire.

Alas! That I am fain
In those tents to remain,
Which Kedar are by name:
By whom the flock elect,
And all of Isaac’s sect,
Are put to open shame.

With them that peace do hate
I came to meditate,
And set a quiet life:
But when my mind was told,
Causeless I was controlled
By them that loved strife.

Paraphrase by Tate and Brady, New Version, 1698

English.png English text

In deep distress I oft have cried
To God, who never yet denied
To rescue me, oppressed with wrongs.
Once more, O Lord, deliverance send.
From lying lips my soul defend,
And from the rage of slandering tongues.

2. What little profit can accrue?
And yet what heavy wrath is due,
O thou perfidious tongue! To thee?
Thy sting upon thy self shall turn,
Of lasting flames that fiercely burn.
The constant fuel thou shalt be.

3. But O! How wretched is my doom,
Who am a sojourner become
In barren Mesech's desert soil!
With Kedar's wicked tents enclosed,
To lawless savages exposed,
Who live on naught but theft and spoil.

4. My hapless dwelling is with those
Who peace and amity oppose,
and pleasure take in others' harms:
Sweet peace is all I court and seek;
But when to them of peace I speak,
They strait cry out, "To arms! To arms!"

Paraphrase by Isaac Watts, 1719

English.png English text

Thou God of love, thou ever-blest,
Pity my suffering state;
When wilt thou set my soul at rest
From lips that love deceit?

Hard lot of mine! my days are cast
Among the sons of strife,
Whose never-ceasing brawlings waste
My golden hours of life.

O might I fly to change my place,
How would I choose to dwell
In some wide lonesome wilderness,
And leave these gates of hell!

Peace is the blessing that I seek,
How lovely are its charms!
I am for peace; but when I speak,
They all declare for arms.

New passions still their souls engage,
And keep their malice strong:
What shall be done to curb thy rage,
O thou devouring tongue!

Should burning arrows smite thee through
Strict justice would approve;
But I had rather spare my foe,
And melt his heart with love.