Twenty nine verses, and the superscription names no author, only a condition: a prayer for whoever is faint and pouring out his complaint. That is why the psalm has no fixed occasion. It fits any of them. The vocabulary is the vocabulary of a body giving out, bones, heart, skin, sleep, bread and drink, and almost every noun in the first half carries a first person suffix. Then verse 13 says but You, and the psalm changes subject to Zion and to the age of the world without ever resolving the illness it started with.
1
תְּפִלָּה לְעָנִי כִי יַעֲטֹף
וְלִפְנֵי יְהֹוָה יִשְׁפֹּךְ שִׂיחוֹ
לְעָנִי
le-a-NI
of the afflicted one
יַעֲטֹף
ya-a-TOF
he grows faint
A prayer of the afflicted, when he grows faint
וְלִפְנֵי
ve-lif-NEI
and before
יִשְׁפֹּךְ
yish-POCH
he pours out
שִׂיחוֹ
si-CHO
his complaint
and pours out his complaint before the LORD.
The heading describes a state rather than a person or an event, which is what makes the psalm reusable by anyone in that state.
2
יְהֹוָה שִׁמְעָה תְפִלָּתִי
וְשַׁוְעָתִי אֵלֶיךָ תָבוֹא
תְפִלָּתִי
tfi-la-TI
my prayer
LORD, hear my prayer,
וְשַׁוְעָתִי
ve-shav-a-TI
and my cry
and let my cry come to You.
Two requests, and the second one asks less: not that the cry be answered, only that it arrive. Distance is the problem before illness is.
3
אַל תַּסְתֵּר פָּנֶיךָ מִמֶּנִּי
בְּיוֹם צַר לִי
הַטֵּה אֵלַי אׇזְנֶךָ
בְּיוֹם אֶקְרָא מַהֵר עֲנֵנִי
פָּנֶיךָ
pa-nei-CHA
Your face
Do not hide Your face from me
on the day I am in distress;
אׇזְנֶךָ
oz-ne-CHA
Your ear
incline Your ear to me;
on the day I call, answer me quickly.
Face and ear, the two organs of attention, one asked not to turn away and one asked to lean in. The word for day repeats and sets a deadline on the answer.
4
כִּי כָלוּ בְעָשָׁן יָמָי
וְעַצְמוֹתַי כְּמוֹקֵד נִחָרוּ
בְעָשָׁן
ve-a-SHAN
in smoke
For my days are consumed in smoke,
וְעַצְמוֹתַי
ve-atz-mo-TAI
and my bones
כְּמוֹקֵד
kmo-KED
like a hearth
נִחָרוּ
ni-cha-RU
are scorched
and my bones are scorched like a hearth.
The complaint proper starts, and it starts with time rather than with pain. Days burn off as smoke, bones burn in place, and the same fire does both.
5
הוּכָּה כָעֵשֶׂב וַיִּבַשׁ לִבִּי
כִּי שָׁכַחְתִּי מֵאֲכֹל לַחְמִי
כָעֵשֶׂב
cha-E-sev
like grass
וַיִּבַשׁ
va-yi-VASH
and it has dried up
My heart is struck like grass and has dried up,
שָׁכַחְתִּי
sha-chach-TI
I have forgotten
for I have forgotten to eat my bread.
Grass enters here and will come back in verse 12 to close the lament. The evidence given for a dried heart is domestic and exact: meals no longer happen.
6
מִקּוֹל אַנְחָתִי
דָּבְקָה עַצְמִי לִבְשָׂרִי
מִקּוֹל
mi-KOL
from the sound of
אַנְחָתִי
an-cha-TI
my groaning
From the sound of my groaning
לִבְשָׂרִי
liv-sa-RI
to my flesh
my bone clings to my flesh.
Cause and effect run the wrong way round: the noise of grief is what wastes the body, as though the sound itself were doing the work.
7
דָּמִיתִי לִקְאַת מִדְבָּר
הָיִיתִי כְּכוֹס חֳרָבוֹת
דָּמִיתִי
da-mi-TI
I resemble
לִקְאַת
lik-AT
a pelican of
מִדְבָּר
mid-BAR
the wilderness
I am like a pelican of the wilderness;
הָיִיתִי
ha-yi-TI
I have become
כְּכוֹס
ke-CHOS
like an owl of
חֳרָבוֹת
cho-ra-VOT
the ruins
I have become like an owl of the ruins.
Two birds, both defined by where they live rather than by what they are. The complaint moves from a failing body to a wrong address.
8
שָׁקַדְתִּי וָאֶהְיֶה
כְּצִפּוֹר בּוֹדֵד עַל גָּג
שָׁקַדְתִּי
sha-kad-TI
I lie awake
וָאֶהְיֶה
va-eh-YE
and I have become
I lie awake, and I have become
כְּצִפּוֹר
ktzi-POR
like a bird
like a bird alone on a roof.
The third bird, and the only one on a human building. Sleeplessness puts the speaker above the house he belongs to rather than inside it.
9
כׇּל הַיּוֹם חֵרְפוּנִי אוֹיְבָי
מְהוֹלָלַי בִּי נִשְׁבָּעוּ
חֵרְפוּנִי
cher-fu-NI
they taunt me
All the day my enemies taunt me;
מְהוֹלָלַי
me-ho-la-LAI
those who rave against me
נִשְׁבָּעוּ
nish-ba-U
they swear
those who rave against me swear by me.
To swear by someone is to use his fate as the measure of a curse. The speaker has become a byword, which is a social death running alongside the physical one.
10
כִּי אֵפֶר כַּלֶּחֶם אָכָלְתִּי
וְשִׁקֻּוַי בִּבְכִי מָסָכְתִּי
כַּלֶּחֶם
ka-LE-chem
like bread
אָכָלְתִּי
a-chal-TI
I have eaten
For I have eaten ashes like bread,
וְשִׁקֻּוַי
ve-shi-ku-VAI
and my drink
בִּבְכִי
biv-CHI
with weeping
מָסָכְתִּי
ma-sach-TI
I have mixed
and mixed my drink with weeping,
Bread returns from verse 5, now replaced by the ash of mourning. Both halves take a normal meal and substitute a mourning rite for one of its parts.
11
מִפְּנֵי זַעַמְךָ וְקִצְפֶּךָ
כִּי נְשָׂאתַנִי וַתַּשְׁלִיכֵנִי
מִפְּנֵי
mip-NEI
because of
זַעַמְךָ
za-am-CHA
Your fury
וְקִצְפֶּךָ
ve-kitz-pe-CHA
and Your wrath
because of Your fury and Your wrath,
נְשָׂאתַנִי
ne-sa-ta-NI
You lifted me up
וַתַּשְׁלִיכֵנִי
va-tash-li-che-NI
and cast me away
for You lifted me up and cast me away.
The cause is named for the first time and it is God, not illness and not enemies. This is the low point of the psalm and the last verse of the first person before the turn.
12
יָמַי כְּצֵל נָטוּי
וַאֲנִי כָּעֵשֶׂב אִיבָשׁ
נָטוּי
na-TUI
stretched long
My days are like a lengthening shadow,
כָּעֵשֶׂב
ka-E-sev
like grass
and I dry up like grass.
Grass closes the lament that it opened in verse 5, and the shadow lengthens because the sun is going down. Both images are ways of saying the end is near without saying it.
13
וְאַתָּה יְהֹוָה לְעוֹלָם תֵּשֵׁב
וְזִכְרְךָ לְדֹר וָדֹר
תֵּשֵׁב
te-SHEV
are enthroned
But You, LORD, are enthroned forever,
וְזִכְרְךָ
ve-zich-re-CHA
and Your renown
לְדֹר
le-DOR
for generation
וָדֹר
va-DOR
and generation
and Your renown for generation after generation.
The hinge of the psalm, two words wide: but You. The same verb that seated the speaker's days on a slope seats God on a throne with no term.
14
אַתָּה תָקוּם תְּרַחֵם צִיּוֹן
כִּי עֵת לְחֶנְנָהּ
כִּי בָא מוֹעֵד
תְּרַחֵם
te-ra-CHEM
You will have mercy on
You will rise and have mercy on Zion,
לְחֶנְנָהּ
le-chen-NAH
to favour her
for it is time to favour her,
מוֹעֵד
mo-ED
the appointed time
for the appointed time has come.
The subject shifts from a sick man to a ruined city, and the tense shifts with it from complaint to certainty. The reason given is that a scheduled hour has arrived.
15
כִּי רָצוּ עֲבָדֶיךָ אֶת אֲבָנֶיהָ
וְאֶת עֲפָרָהּ יְחֹנֵנוּ
רָצוּ
ra-TZU
they take delight
עֲבָדֶיךָ
a-va-dei-CHA
Your servants
אֲבָנֶיהָ
a-va-nei-A
in her stones
For Your servants take delight in her stones,
וְאֶת
VE-et
and (object marker)
יְחֹנֵנוּ
ye-cho-ne-NU
they cherish
and cherish her dust.
The proof that the hour has come is affection for rubble. Stones and dust are what is left of a building, and loving them is treated as evidence rather than as sentiment.
16
וְיִירְאוּ גוֹיִם אֶת שֵׁם יְהֹוָה
וְכׇל מַלְכֵי הָאָרֶץ אֶת כְּבוֹדֶךָ
וְיִירְאוּ
ve-yir-U
and they will fear
And the nations will fear the name of the LORD,
מַלְכֵי
mal-CHEI
the kings of
הָאָרֶץ
ha-A-retz
the earth
כְּבוֹדֶךָ
ke-vo-de-CHA
Your glory
and all the kings of the earth Your glory.
The second half of the line drops its verb and borrows the one before it, a compression the psalms use constantly. The audience widens from servants to kings.
17
כִּי בָנָה יְהֹוָה צִיּוֹן
נִרְאָה בִּכְבוֹדוֹ
For the LORD has built Zion,
נִרְאָה
nir-A
He has appeared
בִּכְבוֹדוֹ
bich-vo-DO
in His glory
He has appeared in His glory.
The rebuilding is stated as accomplished, in the middle of a psalm whose speaker is still dying. The future is described in the past tense because it is certain, not because it has happened.
18
פָּנָה אֶל תְּפִלַּת הָעַרְעָר
וְלֹא בָזָה אֶת תְּפִלָּתָם
תְּפִלַּת
tfi-LAT
the prayer of
הָעַרְעָר
ha-ar-AR
the destitute
He has turned to the prayer of the destitute,
בָזָה
va-ZA
has He despised
תְּפִלָּתָם
tfi-la-TAM
their prayer
and has not despised their prayer.
The private prayer of verse 2 comes back as a category, and in the plural. The one voice has been enrolled among everyone else who prays from nothing.
19
תִּכָּתֶב זֹאת לְדוֹר אַחֲרוֹן
וְעַם נִבְרָא יְהַלֶּל יָהּ
תִּכָּתֶב
ti-KA-tev
let it be written
לְדוֹר
le-DOR
for a generation
אַחֲרוֹן
a-cha-RON
yet to come
Let this be written for a later generation,
נִבְרָא
niv-RA
created anew
יְהַלֶּל
ye-HA-lel
will praise
and a people yet to be created will praise Yah.
The psalm asks to be written down, which is the moment it stops being one man's complaint and becomes a text kept for readers who do not exist yet.
20
כִּי הִשְׁקִיף מִמְּרוֹם קׇדְשׁוֹ
יְהֹוָה מִשָּׁמַיִם אֶל אֶרֶץ הִבִּיט
הִשְׁקִיף
hish-KIF
He looked down
מִמְּרוֹם
mim-ROM
from the height of
קׇדְשׁוֹ
kod-SHO
His holiness
For He looked down from the height of His holiness;
מִשָּׁמַיִם
mi-sha-MA-yim
from heaven
from heaven the LORD gazed to earth,
Two verbs of looking, both of them deliberate rather than incidental. The direction is the reverse of the psalm's opening, where the speaker was trying to send a cry upward.
21
לִשְׁמֹעַ אֶנְקַת אָסִיר
לְפַתֵּחַ בְּנֵי תְמוּתָה
לִשְׁמֹעַ
lish-MO-a
to hear
אֶנְקַת
en-KAT
the groaning of
to hear the groaning of the prisoner,
לְפַתֵּחַ
le-fa-TE-ach
to set free
בְּנֵי
bnei
the children of
to set free the children of death.
The purpose of the looking, and it lands on exactly the speaker's own case: someone groaning, someone under sentence. He is answered without being named.
22
לְסַפֵּר בְּצִיּוֹן שֵׁם יְהֹוָה
וּתְהִלָּתוֹ בִּירוּשָׁלָ͏ִם
בְּצִיּוֹן
be-tzi-YON
in Zion
so that the name of the LORD may be told in Zion,
וּתְהִלָּתוֹ
ut-hi-la-TO
and His praise
בִּירוּשָׁלָ͏ִם
bi-ru-sha-LA-yim
in Jerusalem
and His praise in Jerusalem,
Release is not the end of the chain. The freed prisoner exists in order to say something, which is how the psalm justifies its own survival as a text.
23
בְּהִקָּבֵץ עַמִּים יַחְדָּו
וּמַמְלָכוֹת לַעֲבֹד אֶת יְהֹוָה
בְּהִקָּבֵץ
be-hi-ka-VETZ
when they gather
when peoples gather together,
וּמַמְלָכוֹת
u-mam-la-CHOT
and kingdoms
and kingdoms, to serve the LORD.
The widest point of the psalm, and the last line before it collapses back to one man. Nations assemble in Jerusalem and the next verse is about a shortened life.
24
עִנָּה בַדֶּרֶךְ כֹּחִי
קִצַּר יָמָי
בַדֶּרֶךְ
va-de-RECH
on the way
He has broken my strength on the way;
קִצַּר
ki-TZAR
He has shortened
He has shortened my days.
The return to complaint is abrupt and unexplained, which is the honest part of the psalm: the vision of a rebuilt city has not cured the man who saw it.
25
אֹמַר אֵלִי
אַל תַּעֲלֵנִי בַּחֲצִי יָמָי
בְּדוֹר דּוֹרִים שְׁנוֹתֶיךָ
תַּעֲלֵנִי
ta-a-le-NI
bring me up
בַּחֲצִי
ba-cha-TZI
at the half of
do not take me away in the middle of my days,
בְּדוֹר
bdor
through generation
דּוֹרִים
do-RIM
of generations
שְׁנוֹתֶיךָ
shno-tei-CHA
Your years
You whose years run through all generations.
The one direct petition in the second half, and it is about timing rather than healing. The request is immediately set against the lifespan that has no half.
26
לְפָנִים הָאָרֶץ יָסַדְתָּ
וּמַעֲשֵׂה יָדֶיךָ שָׁמָיִם
לְפָנִים
le-fa-NIM
long ago
הָאָרֶץ
ha-A-retz
the earth
יָסַדְתָּ
ya-sad-TA
You founded
Long ago You founded the earth,
וּמַעֲשֵׂה
u-ma-a-SE
and the work of
יָדֶיךָ
ya-dei-CHA
Your hands
שָׁמָיִם
sha-ma-YIM
are the heavens
and the heavens are the work of Your hands.
The answer to a short life is not a longer life but a longer frame. Creation is brought in as the oldest thing available for comparison.
27
הֵמָּה יֹאבֵדוּ וְאַתָּה תַעֲמֹד
וְכֻלָּם כַּבֶּגֶד יִבְלוּ
כַּלְּבוּשׁ תַּחֲלִיפֵם וְיַחֲלֹפוּ
יֹאבֵדוּ
yo-ve-DU
will perish
תַעֲמֹד
ta-a-MOD
will stand
They will perish, but You will stand;
וְכֻלָּם
ve-chu-LAM
and all of them
כַּבֶּגֶד
ka-BE-ged
like a garment
יִבְלוּ
yiv-LU
will wear out
all of them will wear out like a garment;
כַּלְּבוּשׁ
kal-VUSH
like clothing
תַּחֲלִיפֵם
ta-cha-li-FEM
You will change them
וְיַחֲלֹפוּ
ve-ya-cha-lo-FU
and they will pass away
You will change them like clothing and they will pass away.
Heaven and earth are put on the same schedule as the speaker's body, only slower. The consolation is strange: nothing lasts, so his not lasting is not a punishment.
28
וְאַתָּה הוּא
וּשְׁנוֹתֶיךָ לֹא יִתָּמּוּ
וּשְׁנוֹתֶיךָ
ush-no-tei-CHA
and Your years
יִתָּמּוּ
yi-ta-MU
will end
and Your years will not end.
Two words with no predicate between them, the shortest sentence in the psalm. After a poem full of failing nouns, the one stable thing is stated without describing it.
29
בְּנֵי עֲבָדֶיךָ יִשְׁכּוֹנוּ
וְזַרְעָם לְפָנֶיךָ יִכּוֹן
בְּנֵי
bnei
the children of
עֲבָדֶיךָ
a-va-dei-CHA
Your servants
יִשְׁכּוֹנוּ
yish-ko-NU
will dwell
The children of Your servants will dwell,
וְזַרְעָם
ve-zar-AM
and their seed
לְפָנֶיךָ
le-fa-nei-CHA
before You
יִכּוֹן
yi-KON
will be established
and their seed will be established before You.
The psalm ends without healing the man who spoke it. What continues is the line after him, and dwelling is the word it chooses, the settled opposite of a bird on a roof.
♦ PARDES analysis: פרדס
The four levels of Jewish reading of the sacred text: פשט Peshat (literal meaning), רמז Remez (symbolic allusion), דרש Drash (midrashic interpretation), סוד Sod (mystical meaning). The word פרדס means "orchard", each level is a fruit.
פשט · Peshat: literal meaning
Three panels. Verses 2 to 12 are a body giving out, measured throughout in days rather than in symptoms. Verses 13 to 23 leave the body completely and speak of Zion rebuilt and the nations assembling, in a future stated as though already done. Verses 24 to 29 drop back to the speaker, who asks not to be taken in the middle of his life and is answered with the age of the world. The hinge is וְאַתָּה (ve-a-ta, v.13), but You, and everything after it runs on the contrast between a lifespan and a throne. Watch the word for my days: it appears in verses 4, 12, 24 and 25, and it marks every seam in the poem.
רמז · Remez: allusion
The birds of verse 7 are traditionally rendered pelican and owl and the identifications are disputed; what the two words carry for certain is habitat rather than species, one fixed to wilderness and one to ruins, which is the whole point of the comparison. נְשָׂאתַנִי (ne-sa-ta-ni, v.11) sharpens the complaint by the order of its verbs: You lifted me up and then threw me down, so the height was part of the fall. נִבְרָא (niv-ra, v.19) uses the verb of Genesis for a people not yet created, which turns the line from a prediction into a promise. And תַּעֲלֵנִי (ta-a-le-ni, v.25) literally says do not bring me up, understood as do not take me away, one of the several ways the language declines to name death directly.
דרש · Drash: midrashic reading
הָעַרְעָר (ha-ar-ar, v.18) is a rare word for the stripped and destitute, and the same root is used elsewhere in the Bible for a bare plant in the desert; the traditional reading holds both senses at once, a man with nothing and a shrub with no water, which matches the birds of verse 7. On נִבְרָא (niv-ra, v.19), one reading takes the people yet to be created to be a generation remade by repentance, on the argument that a people already in existence does not need creating. Verse 19 is also where the psalm becomes aware of itself: it asks to be written for a generation not yet born, and that request is the reason a single sick man's complaint was kept as a public text rather than as a private one.
סוד · Sod: mystical reading
Verse 27 supplies the image the mystical readings work with: worlds wear out like a garment and are exchanged, and the one who changes them is not changed by the change. כַּלְּבוּשׁ (kal-vush, v.27) is clothing, and clothing in this register is what a thing shows rather than what it is, so a world that ages is a covering that has served its term. הוּא (hu, v.28) then says only You are He, two words with nothing predicated of them, treated as the point where description has to stop. The ending fits that reading: the speaker is not healed, and what endures is the line of servants after him, continuity taking the place of cure.