(A psalm. Of Asaph.)
O God, the heathen have broken into thy inheritance; they have profaned the temple, thy sanctuary, and left Jerusalem in ruins.

They have thrown the corpses of thy servants to feed all the birds of heaven; wild beasts prey on the carrion of the just;

blood has flowed like water on every side of Jerusalem, and there was none to bury the dead.

What a triumph was this for the nations that dwell around us; how have our neighbours mocked and derided us!

Lord, must we always taste thy vengeance, must thy jealous anger still burn unquenched?

Pour out this indignation of thine upon the nations that do not acknowledge thee, on the kingdoms that never invoke thy name;

see how they have made Jacob their prey, and left his dwelling-place in ruins!

Forget the long record of our sins, and haste in mercy to our side; never was need so sore as this.

O God, our Saviour, help us; deliver us, Lord, for the glory of thy name, pardon our sins for the sake of thy own renown!

Shall the heathen ask, What has become of their God? Shall our eyes never witness thy vengeance upon the Gentiles, that open vengeance thou wilt take for thy servants’ blood?

Could but the groaning of the captive reach thy presence! Thy arm has not lost its strength; from our bonds deliver us, a race doomed to die.

Pour out seven-fold retribution into the laps of our neighbours, for all the insults, Lord, which they have put upon thee;

and we, thy own people, sheep of thy pasturing, will give thee thanks for ever, echo, from one generation to the next, the story of thy renown.