A Ma῾alot Poem. To Thee I lift up my eyes, O Thou who dwellest in the heavens.
Behold, as the eyes of servants look to the hand of their masters, and as the eyes of a maid to the hand of her mistress; so our eyes wait upon the Lord our God, until he shall be gracious to us.
Be gracious to us, O Lord, be gracious to us: for we are overfilled with contempt.
Our soul is overfilled with the scorn of those who are at ease, and with the contempt of the proud.
שִׁ֗יר הַֽמַּ֫עֲל֥וֹת אֵ֭לֶיךָ נָשָׂ֣אתִי אֶת־עֵינַ֑י הַ֝יֹּשְׁבִ֗י בַּשָּׁמָֽיִם׃
הִנֵּ֨ה כְעֵינֵ֪י עֲבָדִ֡ים אֶל־יַ֤ד אֲֽדוֹנֵיהֶ֗ם כְּעֵינֵ֣י שִׁפְחָה֮ אֶל־יַ֪ד גְּבִ֫רְתָּ֥הּ כֵּ֣ן עֵ֭ינֵינוּ אֶל־יְהוָ֣ה אֱלֹהֵ֑ינוּ עַ֝֗ד שֶׁיְּחָנֵּֽנוּ׃
חָנֵּ֣נוּ יְהוָ֣ה חָנֵּ֑נוּ כִּֽי־רַ֝֗ב שָׂבַ֥עְנוּ בֽוּז׃
רַבַּת֮ שָֽׂבְעָה־לָּ֪הּ נַ֫פְשֵׁ֥נוּ הַלַּ֥עַג הַשַּׁאֲנַנִּ֑ים הַ֝בּ֗וּז לִגְאֵ֥יוֹנִֽים׃