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We praise you, God
We praise you, for Your Name is near
People tell of Your wonderful deeds
People tell as if You were here

You say, “I choose the appointed time
It is I who judge with equity
When the earth and all its people quake
It is I who hold its pillars firm, who give prosperity

To the arrogant I say, ‘Boast no more’
And to the wicked, ‘Do not your horns lift up
Do not lift your horns against heaven
Do not so defiantly speak up’”

No one from the east or the west
Or from the desert can exalt themselves
It is God who judges:
He brings one down, he exalts the innocent

In the hand of the Lord is a cup
Full of foaming wine mixed with spices
He pours it out, and all the wicked of the earth
Drink it down to its very dregs as the price

As for me, I will declare this forever
I will sing praise to the Jacob’s God
Who says, “I will cut off the horns of all the wicked
But the horns of the righteous will be lifted up”. Praise Lord