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You turn mighty cities into heaps of ruins. The strongest forts are turned to rubble. Beautiful palaces in distant lands disappear and will never be rebuilt. Therefore strong nations will shake with fear before you; ruthless nations will obey and glorify your name.

But to the poor, O Lord, you are a refuge from the storm, a shadow from the heat, a shelter from merciless men who are like a driving rain that melts down an earthen wall.

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You have made the city a heap of rubble,(A)
    the fortified(B) town a ruin,(C)
the foreigners’ stronghold(D) a city no more;
    it will never be rebuilt.(E)
Therefore strong peoples will honor you;(F)
    cities of ruthless(G) nations will revere you.
You have been a refuge(H) for the poor,(I)
    a refuge for the needy(J) in their distress,
a shelter from the storm(K)
    and a shade from the heat.
For the breath of the ruthless(L)
    is like a storm driving against a wall

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