Psalm 90
A prayer of Moses, man of Hashem.
Hashem, you have been a dwelling place for us
from one generation to the next.
Before mountains were born,
before earth and its people came to exist.
From eternity until eternity, You are holy.
Mortals can turn to You until they are crushed.
You say, “Return, children of Adam.”
Because a thousand years You can hold in your sight
like a yesterday passing into today,
a watchman’s hour of relief at night.
You flood the years; they pass like sleep.
By morning, they vanish like grass.
At dawn a person flowers and is fragrant;
by evening we become withered and dry.
For by Your wrath we are extinguished.
By Your anger we are made to feel afraid.
You have laid out our transgressions before You,
our secrets are illumined by the light of Your face.
All our hours pass by in Your fury.
Our years come to an end as though imagined.
The days of our years are seventy;
if we are strong, maybe eighty.
All our boasts are toil and delusion,
because life passes and rushes and flies away.
Who can bear the force of Your rejection?
Our fear of You seems to us like Your anger.
Make known to us the portion of our days
so that we may gain a heart of wisdom.
Turn back to us, Hashem—-Oh, how long?
Have compassion on those trying to serve Your will.
Fill our morning with acts of Your kindness
and we will sing and rejoice all our days.
Bring us joy in proportion to our days of affliction,
years we saw only strife.
May Your acts be visible to Your servants,
Your splendor to their children’s eyes.
May the sweetness of the Holy One, our Creator,
be constantly before us.
And the work of our hands give us direction.
And the work of our hands–give it direction toward You.
