Deus, Deus meus
My God, my God, why have you forsaken me, *
and are so far from my cry, and from the words of my complaint?
O my God, I cry in the daytime, but you do not hear; *
in the night season also, but I find no rest.
But you remain holy, *
enthroned upon the praises of Israel.
Our fathers hoped in you; *
they trusted in you, and you delivered them.
They called upon you, and were delivered; *
they put their trust in you, and were not confounded.
But as for me, I am a worm, and no man, *
scorned by all, and the outcast of the people.
All those who see me laugh me to scorn; *
they curl their lips, and shake their heads, saying,
“He trusted in God, that he would deliver him; *
let him deliver him, if he will have him.”
But you are he that took me out of my mother’s womb; *
you were my hope, when I was yet upon my mother’s breasts.
I have been cast upon you ever since I was born; *
you are my God, even from my mother’s womb.
O go not far from me, for trouble is near at hand, *
and there is none to help me.