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Oração no meio de grande perigo

Masquil de Davi. Oração que fez quando estava na caverna

142 Com a minha voz clamei ao Senhor; com a minha voz ao Senhor supliquei. Derramei a minha queixa perante a sua face; expus-lhe a minha angústia. Quando o meu espírito estava angustiado em mim, então, conheceste a minha vereda.

No caminho em que eu andava, ocultaram um laço. Olhei para a minha direita e vi; mas não havia quem me conhecesse; refúgio me faltou; ninguém cuidou da minha alma.

A ti, ó Senhor, clamei; eu disse: tu és o meu refúgio e a minha porção na terra dos viventes. Atende ao meu clamor, porque estou muito abatido; livra-me dos meus perseguidores, porque são mais fortes do que eu. Tira a minha alma da prisão, para que louve o teu nome; os justos me rodearão, pois me fizeste bem.

Psalm 142[a]

A maskil[b] of David. When he was in the cave.(A) A prayer.

I cry aloud(B) to the Lord;
    I lift up my voice to the Lord for mercy.(C)
I pour out before him my complaint;(D)
    before him I tell my trouble.(E)

When my spirit grows faint(F) within me,
    it is you who watch over my way.
In the path where I walk
    people have hidden a snare for me.
Look and see, there is no one at my right hand;
    no one is concerned for me.
I have no refuge;(G)
    no one cares(H) for my life.

I cry to you, Lord;
    I say, “You are my refuge,(I)
    my portion(J) in the land of the living.”(K)

Listen to my cry,(L)
    for I am in desperate need;(M)
rescue me(N) from those who pursue me,
    for they are too strong(O) for me.
Set me free from my prison,(P)
    that I may praise your name.(Q)
Then the righteous will gather about me
    because of your goodness to me.(R)

Footnotes

  1. Psalm 142:1 In Hebrew texts 142:1-7 is numbered 142:2-8.
  2. Psalm 142:1 Title: Probably a literary or musical term

142 I cried unto the Lord with my voice; with my voice unto the Lord did I make my supplication.

I poured out my complaint before him; I shewed before him my trouble.

When my spirit was overwhelmed within me, then thou knewest my path. In the way wherein I walked have they privily laid a snare for me.

I looked on my right hand, and beheld, but there was no man that would know me: refuge failed me; no man cared for my soul.

I cried unto thee, O Lord: I said, Thou art my refuge and my portion in the land of the living.

Attend unto my cry; for I am brought very low: deliver me from my persecutors; for they are stronger than I.

Bring my soul out of prison, that I may praise thy name: the righteous shall compass me about; for thou shalt deal bountifully with me.