How lovely are your dwelling places, O Lord,
Lord of Hosts!
My soul longs and yearns
for the courts of the Lord.
Even the sparrow finds a home,
the swallow its nest
near your altars, O Lord,
my King and my God,
my King and my God.
Happy is he who lives in your house,
ever singing your praise,
ever singing your praise.
Happy is he who finds in you the strength
and decides in his heart
to make the holy journey.
Passing through the valley of weeping,
he changes it into a spring;
his strength grows along the way,
till he arrives in Zion, till he arrives in Zion.
For me a day in your courts
is worth more
than a thousand elsewhere.
To dwell at the gate of your house
is better than to live in the palaces of the mighty.
Passing through the valley of weeping…
For me a day in your courts …

Her foundations are on the holy mountains:
the Lord loves the gates of Zion
more than all Jacob's dwellings;
Of you are told glorious things,
City of God!
I will remember Rahab and Babylon,
Palestine, Tyre and Ethiopia,
when someone is born in them,
men say: 'There, this man was born.'
But of Zion, all say 'Mother!'
For all were born in her.
For all were born in her.
The Lord himself has founded her!
The Lord himself has founded her!
Mother, Mother, city of God!
The Lord writes in the book of the peoples:
'This man was born in her;'
and while dancing they will sing:
'In you are all my fountains.'
And while dancing, while dancing they will sing:
And while dancing, while dancing they will sing:
'all my fountains are in you.'
'All my fountains are in you.'
'Mother, Mother, city of God!'
For all…
And while dancing…