Читать книгу A Carolina Psalter - Tony Scully - Страница 19

1 In God do I take refuge:How say ye to my soul,Flee as a bird to your mountain;2 For, lo, the wicked bend the bow,They make ready their arrow upon the string,That they may shoot in darkness at the upright in heart;3 If the foundations be destroyed,What can the righteous do?4 God is in his holy temple;God, his throne is in heaven;His eyes behold, his eyelids try, the children of men.5 God trieth the righteous;But the wicked and him that loveth violence his soul hateth.6 Upon the wicked he will rain snares;Fire and brimstone and burning wind shall be the portion of their cup.7 For God is righteous; he loveth righteousness:The upright shall behold his face.

I have put my trust in you

Not knowing you

Merely sensing you

Suspecting you

The innate they say

Felt

Not understood

Not tested

No trials

Unsurveyed

Still

For the unknowing

You

Five thousand years of promises

To destroy my enemies

Raining fire and brimstone on whose we call wicked

This, the revealed inheritance

Prayed aloud in the camps

By the evicted and the starved

The butchered

The hanged

As the wicked drove off

Afterwards

To their ceaseless celebrations

In Portofino

Cozumel

And Beverly Hills