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psalm_Chapter 41

Blessed are those who care for poverty. On the day of his distress, the Lord will deliver him.

The Lord will preserve him and keep him alive. He will enjoy happiness on the earth. Please do not hand him over to your enemy, as he wishes.

He is seriously ill on his bed, and the Lord will support him. He is sick, you must make his bed.

I once said, O Lord, have mercy on me and heal me. Because I offended you.

My enemies speak ill of me, saying, When will he die and his name perish?

He came to see me and lied. He harbored evil in his heart and only spoke out when he walked outside.

Everyone who hates me whispers about me. They designed to harm me.

They said there was a strange disease sticking to him. He is lying down and cannot get up again.

Even my close friends, whom I rely on to eat my food, have kicked me with their feet.

O Lord, have mercy on me, raise me up, that I may seek revenge against them.

Because my enemies cannot boast of victory over me. I know from then on that you love me.

You support me because of my purity, so that I may stand before you forever.

Praise be to the Lord, the God of Israel, from ancient times to eternity. Amen, amen.

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