God! Look! Enemies past counting! Enemies sprouting like mushrooms,
Mobs of them all around me, roaring their mockery: "Hah! No help for him from God!"
But you, God, shield me on all sides; You ground my feet, you lift my head high;
With all my might I shout up to God, His answers thunder from the holy mountain.
I stretch myself out. I sleep. Then I'm up again - rested, tall and steady,
Fearless before the enemy mobs Coming at me from all sides.
Up, God! My God, help me! Slap their faces, First this cheek, then the other, Your fist hard in their teeth!
Real help comes from God. Your blessing clothes your people!
Published by permission. Originally published by NavPress in English as THE MESSAGE: The Bible in Contemporary Language copyright 2002 by Eugene Peterson. All rights reserved. (The Message Bible Online)