15 Look attentively from the heavens, And see from Thy holy and beauteous habitation, Where [is] Thy zeal and Thy might? The multitude of Thy bowels and Thy mercies Towards me have refrained themselves. 16 For Thou [art] our Father, For Abraham hath not known us, And Israel doth not acknowledge us, Thou, O Jehovah, [art] our Father, Our redeemer from the age, [is] Thy name. 17 Why causest Thou us to wander, O Jehovah, from Thy ways? Thou hardenest our heart from Thy fear, Turn back for Thy servants' sake, The tribes of Thine inheritance. 18 For a little while did Thy holy people possess, Our adversaries have trodden down Thy sanctuary. 19 We have been from of old, Thou hast not ruled over them, Not called is Thy name upon them!
1 Didst Thou not rend the heavens? Thou didst come down, From thy presence did mountains flow, 2 (As fire kindleth stubble -- Fire causeth water to boil,) To make known Thy name to Thine adversaries, From Thy presence do nations tremble. 3 In Thy doing fearful things -- we expect not, Thou didst come down, From Thy presence did mountains flow. 4 Even from antiquity [men] have not heard, They have not given ear, Eye hath not seen a God save Thee, He doth work for those waiting for Him. 5 Thou hast met with the rejoicer And the doer of righteousness, In Thy ways they remember Thee, Lo, Thou hast been wroth when we sin, By them [is] continuance, and we are saved. 6 And we are as unclean -- all of us, And as a garment passing away, all our righteous acts; And we fade as a leaf -- all of us. And our iniquities as wind do take us away. 7 And there is none calling in Thy name, Stirring up himself to lay hold on Thee, For Thou hast hid Thy face from us, And thou meltest us away by our iniquities.
8 And now, O Jehovah, thou [art] our Father, We [are] the clay, and Thou our Framer, And the work of Thy hand -- all of us. 9 Be not wroth, O Jehovah, very sore, Nor for ever remember iniquity, Lo, look attentively, we beseech Thee, Thy people [are] we all. 10 Thy holy cities have been a wilderness, Zion a wilderness hath been, Jerusalem a desolation. 11 Our holy and our beautiful house, Where praise Thee did our fathers, Hath become burnt with fire, And all our desirable things have become a waste. 12 For these dost Thou refrain Thyself, Jehovah? Thou art silent, and dost afflict us very sore!'