If I lie down, I say, ‘When will I arise?’, and the night stretches on and I toss and turn restlessly until the day dawns.

And the eye of the adulterer watches for the twilight, thinking, ‘No eye can see me,’ and covers his face with a mask.

My heart palpitates, I shake in fear; the twilight I desired has brought me terror.

Indeed, they are barely planted; yes, they are barely sown; yes, they barely take root in the earth, and then he blows on them, causing them to dry up, and the wind carries them away like straw.

Show the Lord your God the respect that is due him. Do it before he brings the darkness of disaster. Do it before you stumble into distress like a traveler on the mountains at twilight. Do it before he turns the light of deliverance you hope for into the darkness and gloom of exile.