Happy the man whose fault is forgiven,
whose sin is blotted out;
happy the man whom Yahweh accuses of no guilt,
whose spirit is incapable of deceit!
All the time I kept silent, my bones were wasting away
with groans, day in, day out;
day and night your hand lay heavy on me;
my heart grew parched as stubble in summer drought.
At last I admitted to you I had sinned;
no longer concealing my guilt,
I said, "I will go to Yahweh and confess my fault."
And you, you have forgiven the wrong I did,
have pardoned my sin.
That is why each of your servants prays to you
in time of trouble;
even if floods come rushing down,
they will never reach him.
You are a hiding place for me,
you guard me when in trouble, you surround me with songs of deliverance.
I will instruct you and teach you the way to go;
I will watch over you and be your adviser.
Do not be like senseless horse or mule
that need bit and bridle to curb their spirit
(to let you get near them).
Many torments await the wicked,
but grace enfolds the man who trusts in Yahweh.
Rejoice in Yahweh
exult, you virtuous,
shout for joy, all upright hearts.
The Prodigal Son
by Rembrandt van Rijn