Book II

To the choirmaster. A Maskil of the Sons of Korah.

1As a hart longs

for flowing streams,

so longs my soul

for thee, O God.

2My soul thirsts for God,

for the living God.

When shall I come and behold

the face of God?

3My tears have been my food

day and night,

while men say to me continually,

“Where is your God?”

4These things I remember,

as I pour out my soul:

how I went with the throng,

and led them in procession to the house of God,

with glad shouts and songs of thanksgiving,

a multitude keeping festival.

5Why are you cast down, O my soul,

and why are you disquieted within me?

Hope in God; for I shall again praise him,

my help 6and my God.

My soul is cast down within me,

therefore I remember thee

from the land of Jordan and of Hermon,

from Mount Mizar.

7Deep calls to deep

at the thunder of thy cataracts;

all thy waves and thy billows

have gone over me.

8By day the LORD commands his steadfast love;

and at night his song is with me,

a prayer to the God of my life.

9I say to God, my rock:

“Why hast thou forgotten me?

Why go I mourning

because of the oppression of the enemy?”

10As with a deadly wound in my body,

my adversaries taunt me,

while they say to me continually,

“Where is your God?”

11Why are you cast down, O my soul,

and why are you disquieted within me?

Hope in God; for I shall again praise him,

my help and my God.