I know, God, that mere mortalscan’t run their own lives,That men and womendon’t have what it takes to take charge of life.So correct us, God, as you see best.Don’t lose your temper. That would be the end of us.Vent your anger on the godless nations,who refuse to acknowledge you,And on the peoplewho won’t pray to you—The very ones who’ve made hash out of Jacob,yes, made hashAnd devoured him whole,people and pastures alike.