1In my trouble I cried to the Lord,
And He answered me.
Rescue my soul, O Lord, from lying lips,
And from a deceitful tongue.
What shall be given to you, and what more shall be done to you,
You deceitful tongue?—
Sharp arrows of the warrior,
With the [b]burning coals of the broom tree.
Woe to me, for I sojourn in Meshech,
and I live among the tents of Kedar [among hostile people]!
Too long my soul has had its dwelling
With those who hate peace.
I am for peace, but when I speak,
They are for war.