For the Chief Musician.
On stringed instruments.
A contemplation by David.
Listen to my prayer, God.
Don’t hide yourself from my supplication.
Attend to me, and answer me.
I am restless in my complaint, and moan because of the voice of the enemy, because of the oppression of the wicked.
For they bring suffering on me.
In anger they hold a grudge against me.
My heart is severely pained within me.
The terrors of death have fallen on me.
Fearfulness and trembling have come on me.
Horror has overwhelmed me.
I said, “Oh that I had wings like a dove!
Then I would fly away, and be at rest.