Psalm 119

In my trouble I cried to the Lord: and he heard me.

O Lord, deliver my soul from wicked lips, and a deceitful tongue.

What shall be given to thee, or what shall be added to thee, to a deceitful tongue?

The sharp arrows of the mighty, with coals that lay waste.

Woe is me, that my sojourning is prolonged! I have dwelt with the inhabitants of Cedar:

My soul hath been long a sojourner.

With them that hated peace I was peaceable: when I spoke to them they fought against me without cause.

Ad Dóminum cum tribularér clamávi:
et exaudívit me.

Dómine, líbera ánimam meam a lábiis iníquis,
et a lingua dolósa.

Quid detur tibi,
aut quid apponátur tibi ad linguam dolósam?

Sagíttæ poténtis acútæ,
cum carbónibus desolatóriis.

Heu mihi, quia incolátus meus prolongátus est:
habitávi cum habitántibus Cedar.

Multum íncola fuit ánima mea.

Cum his qui odérunt pacem eram pacíficus:
cum loquébar illis, impugnábant me gratis.