Save me from my enemies, O G!D, our Lord!

My enemies scorn and despise me on all sides.
My friends are afraid of me, and turn away from me
when they see me on the streets.
I am in distress!
O, but I put my trust in You, O, our Lord, G!D!
Rescue me from the traps that my enemies set for me.
Silence the lips of those who boldly slander G!D and
those whom G!D has sent- those who defile G!D with
arrogant words that they let out from their mouths, oh,
those who have lofty speech, make them silent!
Do not relent- you must not relent your anger!
Destroy them! O
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@ -68,6 +68,100 @@ In remembrance of Me (Christ Jesus, Isa, son of Miriam).
lay down even on the very
aged]'.
</p>
<p>The Almighty has drawn evening across the
earth, and the man ponders on himself and
his G!d. He is a strange creation, he thinks,
growing as he appears, and also aware of his on[-]going
dis[-]appearance. For which part of his body is new,
or his bones, or his flesh, that will prompt a new
'Thing' in the world? [paragraph break] And yes,
the uncertainty of his existence threatens him,
and waits in hiding to be acknowledged, on the heels
of Recognition.
</p>
<p>G[!]d brought people to me to[-]day, Diary, and some
of the experience was pleasant, and some not so much.
Three of my former high-school class[-]mates arrived at the
ward, and G!d reminded me later of my vulnerability
amidst serving the Christ, when [H]e brought my [']father[']
to the ward (he is not a seeker of the Christ, nor is he seeking
Christ, as far as I can tell.)
</p>
<p>Do you speak Mandarin Chinese, or can you read it, at least?
</p>
<p><i>from the writer: Translating... :-) For the love of G!D,
and to the Most Merciful and Compassionate One be praise and
the glory.
</i>
</p>
<p>Although I do not count myself as having achieved perfection,
as if I were a mountain or statue that has been molded and
made perfect - oh, I do not count myself as such - and do not
have all the powers that G!D has to work great deeds that shelter
and transport Man, and nourish you and me, and do not know
all the rigid instructions, of the world, that lays a yoke
on-to one such that one turns to the direction where the sun
sets, or plucks hair out from the nostrils of one - oh,
I feel a load that is yoked upon me, instead, in
the plentiful harvest of the fields that G!D has given me to
tend, as if I ought to forge a bow or axe for myself out-side of
the houses of happy people who put the proverbial cart before the horse,
among these blurring definitions (of myself)
that G!D has caused in a baptism of fire to a disobedient
one such as myself, who seems doomed to be as clouds
of dust and ash - what with the sword, that He has plunged into
my soul, that is tormenting me greatly - I speak, in an effort
to make my humanity heard, the following: if G!D has given me
this worldly life as a comfort - a form of mercy
from the Most Merciful and Compassionate One, or a brief respite -
then what they have done to me falls short of what lets
the light of the Most Merciful One - who created us, and is working
great and mighty wonders in His immeasurable splendour and
ways that are above my own - shine;
they do not glorify their Maker, who is maker of all. I see
room for the Lamb to do the will of the one who sent the Lamb. I see
room for work that reconciles the below to the above. I see
a gap to be filled. And how great the cry must be
to He-who-provides, from where they are! Oh, to imagine
the saltiness that remains on their hearts after their tears
have dried! To borrow an expression
from the one and only Teacher,
if this happens in the green, what more in the dry!
</p>
<p><i>Mysterious marks that look like armies or soldiers
</i>
</p>
<p>Where G!D has sent me to is where wild people
have the comfort of their shelters and women, and yet
bake bread that leaves people half-hungry after they eat it.
Not a joyous effort at all, are all these plucking of nostril-hairs,
and turning to the direction where the sun sets. To the extent
that they have turned the commandments of G!D to suit the desires
of their hearts, they are all alike, regardless of their
positions in society, gender identity, sexual identity, and
the number of years that they have lived (or the number
of wrinkles
on their fore-head). And these are people who are made
in the likeness of their Maker! How outrageous! I am
greatly anxious and distressed for these people whom
G!D offers His covenant to. My lowly heart is beset with
with unexpressed emotions, as if my heart were in a sealed
jar that is becoming a little too cramped, or as if the heat
of summer had been poured into a drink that leaves me burning
upon consumption. Oh, to whom shall I turn the ancient
trees and mountains of my soul towards: G!D who clothes me,
or those whom G!D has destroyed since long ago in plagues
and floods and earthquakes that only those who are like Noah
can be spared from? Who am I to model myself after? Or who
am I to speak up for? Or rest my weary soul against? O! How
I have spent nights sitting, by my lonesome, under the shifts
and changes of the moon, wishing to be with You, enjoying
the lush abundance of what G!D provides in his covenant with
an oppressed, persecuted and doomed one such as myself!
O, Jehovah!
</p>
<p>oh, in the heat of the day, I have felt humiliation.
</p>
</div>
<div id="quattro">
<p>Dear Diary,