God is our refuge and our strength, In heavy sorrows He is our help, Whenever the soul might raise itself, To Him go prayer and groan

Let the mountains be shaken with fear,
Let the greedy abyss devour them,
And the world pass away into heaps of dust,
I have not the slightest dread.

Let the sea be stirred up to storm,
And let fearsome winds begin to roar;
Calamities of ruin and grief
Will not wear out my soul.

Let the cruel waves wish
To move the dry land into the deep,
The streams of Jerusalem
Will gladden the City of God.

The Lord dwells in the city,
And will spare His holy house:
Let lightning flash everywhere,
Let thunder roar and strike on every side.

The earth will tremble and the sea will applaud,
Hearing the voice of the Most High,
The heathen peoples will quake,
Their kingdoms will fall in that hour.

With His own abundance of portions,
The earth and the heavens are full:
Behold the almighty power,
Everywhere are the wonders of the Lord.

He puts an end to the wars of mortals,
And burns the chariots of war,
Shatters bow, arrows and spears,
Tears weapons into small pieces.

Hearken to His voice, you peoples,
Who have raised your horn against Him:
The earth and the waters are subject to me,
And the heaven; I am the creator and God.

Literal translation

In these dreadful times we read the great Psalm 45. In my beloved Sumarokov paraphrase.