O God, a new song I will sing to you; on a ten-stringed lyre I will play for you.
You give victory to kings; you delivered David your servant.
From the menacing sword deliver me; rescue me from the hands of foreign foes.
Their mouths speak untruth; their right hands are raised in lying oaths.
May our sons be like plants well nurtured from their youth,
our daughters, like carved columns, shapely as those of the temple.
May our barns be full with every kind of store.
May our sheep increase by thousands, by tens of thousands in our fields;
may our oxen be well fattened.
May there be no breach in the walls, no exile, no outcry in our streets.
Happy the people so blessed; happy the people whose God is the Lord.