Псалтирь - Псалом 22 - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

The Lord grazes me, and it will deprive me of nothing. In place of the Zhlachnoye, they settled me, on the water, the deceased races. Turn my soul, instruct me to Stes Pravda, name for my own. If I go and go in the midst of death, I will not be afraid of evil, as you are with me ECU; Your rod is your palette, that is my comfort. Essy was prepared for me to have a meal, resisting the cold to me; I wandered Essi with my chapter, and your cup lurifying me, as a sovereign. And your mercy will make me all the days of my abdomen, and even instill in the house of the Lord in the longitude of the day.