Where are you, Lord,
when we need you?
Why do you hide?

Sinners hound the poor
with no remorse,
but get tangled in
their own schemes.

The wicked boast
about their desires;
greedy for profit,
they curse the Lord.

They say with contempt,
"God does not care!
There is no God!"
They know their way to success;
your ways are beyond them.
They mock whoever resists them.

They claim to be invincible,
beyond the reach of misfortune.
Their mouths breed
curses, lies, and violence;
trouble and deceit
hide under their tongues.

They wait in ambush near towns;
from their hideouts
they watch for the helpless
and murder the innocent.

They lurk as a lion
waiting in a thicket
to carry off the poor.
They snare them in traps.

They crouch to the ground,
then pounce on their prey.
They think, "God forgets,
never looks, never sees."

Arise, God, and act;
do not ignore the weak.
Why do the wicked scorn you, God,
and think you do not care?

You observe our trouble and grief,
and at the right time
take things in hand.

The poor entrust their lives to you,
protector of orphans.
Break the strength of the brutal,
root out all traces of sin.

You reign for ever, Lord,
keeping your land free
from foreign powers.