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Psalm 38 (39)

A prayer in sickness
“Creation was unable to attain its purpose because of him who kept it so in a state of hope” (Rom 8, 20).

I said: ‘I will be watchful of my ways
  for fear I should sin with my tongue.
I will put a curb on my lips
  when the wicked man stands before me.’
I was dumb, silent and still.
  His prosperity stirred my grief.

My heart was burning within me.
  At the thought of it, the fire blazed up
and my tongue burst into speech:
  ‘O Lord, you have shown me my end,
how short is the length of my days.
  Now I know how fleeting is my life.

‘You have given me a short span of days;
  my life is as nothing in your sight.
A mere breath, the man who stood so firm,
  a mere shadow, the man passing by;
a mere breath the riches he hoards,
  not knowing who will have them.’

And now, Lord, what is there to wait for?
  In you rests all my hope.
Set me free from all my sins,
  do not make me the taunt of the fool.
I was silent, not opening my lips,
  because this was all your doing.

Take away your scourge from me.
  I am crushed by the blows of your hand.
You punish man’s sins and correct him;
  like the moth you devour all he treasures.
Mortal man is no more than a breath;
  O Lord, hear my prayer.

O Lord, turn your ear to my cry.
  Do not be deaf to my tears.
In your house I am a passing guest,
  a pilgrim, like all my fathers.
Look away that I may breathe again
  before I depart to be no more.