The Bible — World English Bible
Psalm 137
In brief
Psalm 137 is the song of the exiles of Judah in Babylon. Sitting by the rivers, they weep as they remember Zion and refuse to sing for their conquerors. The poem swears loyalty to Jerusalem, then ends with a curse on Edom and Babylon, shockingly violent. This psalm lets the pain of exile speak without hiding it, and invites us to bring it to God rather than avenge it ourselves.
Psalm 137 has no heading, so its author is unknown. It is a communal lament that ends with an imprecation, that is, a prayer that calls for God's judgment. The text itself gives the circumstance: the exile in Babylon, after the destruction of Jerusalem and its temple by the army of Nebuchadnezzar, around 587 BC. The past-tense verbs suggest that it was written during the exile or shortly after, by someone who had lived through it. Its first verses inspired the chorus of the slaves in Verdi's Nabucco and the song Rivers of Babylon. Today believers pray it in grief, uprooting, exile or persecution. Its ending, shockingly violent, is read in different ways by the Christian traditions, and some liturgies leave out these last verses in public prayer.
The chapter in 3 parts
1By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down. Yes, we wept, when we remembered Zion.
2On the willows in that land, we hung up our harps.
3For there, those who led us captive asked us for songs. Those who tormented us demanded songs of joy: “Sing us one of the songs of Zion!”
4How can we sing Yahweh’s song in a foreign land?
5If I forget you, Jerusalem, let my right hand forget its skill.
6Let my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth if I don’t remember you, if I don’t prefer Jerusalem above my chief joy.
7Remember, Yahweh, against the children of Edom in the day of Jerusalem, who said, “Raze it! Raze it even to its foundation!”
8Daughter of Babylon, doomed to destruction, he will be happy who repays you, as you have done to us.
9Happy shall he be, who takes and dashes your little ones against the rock.
Understanding Psalm 137 verse by verse
v. 1-2By the rivers of Babylon, the tears of exile
The psalm opens on an unforgettable scene: “By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down. Yes, we wept, when we remembered Zion.” These rivers are the Euphrates and the canals that irrigated the plain, like the Chebar, by which the prophet Ezekiel lived among the exiles (Ezekiel 1:1). The exiles have lost everything: their city, their temple, their land, often their loved ones. They are sitting down, in the posture of mourning. They weep because they remember Zion, the hill of Jerusalem where the temple stood, the sign of God's presence among his people. Then they hang up their harps on the willows. The instrument of feast and worship is no longer played: praise has fallen silent. The Bible does not ask you to hide your tears; it begins by naming them. If you are going through a grief or an uprooting that has left you speechless, this psalm gives you permission to weep before God.
v. 3-4How can we sing the songs of the Lord in a foreign land?
The victors add humiliation to defeat. They demand joy: “Sing us one of the songs of Zion!” These songs celebrated Jerusalem as the city God protects. To sing them to entertain those who had destroyed it would have been to make a mockery of faith. The exiles answer with a question: “How can we sing Yahweh’s song in a foreign land?” It expresses both a pain and a refusal. The pain: a broken heart cannot sing on command. The refusal: the songs of the Lord are not a show to put on for people who laugh at them. Behind it hides a deeper doubt: can you still praise God far from the temple, in a country that worships other gods? The exile will bring an answer. Jeremiah writes to the deportees to pray for the city where they live (Jeremiah 29:7), and Daniel, in exile, keeps praying to his God three times a day (Daniel 6:10). God was not shut up in Jerusalem: he goes with his people all the way to Babylon.
v. 5-6If I forget you, Jerusalem: the oath to stay faithful
One exile speaks up alone and takes an oath: “If I forget you, Jerusalem, let my right hand forget its skill.” The right hand is the one that plays the harp, the tongue the one that sings. The musician agrees to lose his skill if he forgets the city of God. To forget Jerusalem would be to forget God's promises, to settle down in Babylon for good and adopt its gods. To remember is to keep the hope of return alive. The psalmist vows to “prefer Jerusalem above my chief joy”: in Hebrew, it is what rises above all his joys. This is not mere nostalgia; it is the decision not to let pain erase the promises. For the Christian, this oath takes on a new meaning. The New Testament says that our citizenship is in heaven (Philippians 3:20) and announces a new Jerusalem where God will wipe away every tear (Revelation 21:2-4). In your own exiles, remember what God has promised.
v. 7Remember, Lord: Edom's betrayal entrusted to God
The last movement of the psalm is a prayer for judgment, and it has to be read as it is. It begins like this: “Remember, Yahweh, against the children of Edom.” Edom descended from Esau, Jacob's brother: it was a neighboring people, almost a brother to Israel. Yet on the day Jerusalem fell, the Edomites egged on the destroyers, shouting “Raze it! Raze it even to its foundation!” The prophet Obadiah reproaches them for gloating over their brother's misfortune, for plundering his goods and handing over his fugitives (Obadiah 10-14). The betrayal of someone close often hurts more than the violence of an enemy. Notice, though, whom the psalmist is speaking to: he is not planning his revenge, he is asking God to remember. Memory runs through the whole psalm: the exiles remember Zion, they swear not to forget Jerusalem, and now they ask God not to forget the wrong they suffered. To entrust an injustice to God is to acknowledge that he is the judge.
v. 8Daughter of Babylon: the cry for justice to be done
The psalmist now addresses Babylon herself, whom he calls “Daughter of Babylon, doomed to destruction.” Either he is writing after her fall, or he already sees her fallen, as the prophets had announced (Jeremiah 51). Babylon did fall in 539 BC, taken by Cyrus, king of the Persians. The psalmist declares happy the one who will repay her for what she has done. This is the logic of the law of retaliation, an eye for an eye, which served in the Bible to limit vengeance by demanding a penalty in proportion to the offense. The exiles demand justice, not a forgetting that would pretend nothing happened. The New Testament does not despise this thirst for justice. In Revelation, Babylon becomes the symbol of every power that crushes peoples. A voice from heaven calls for her to be repaid according to her works, and believers rejoice because God has done justice (Revelation 18:6, 20). Your desire for justice is not wrong: God takes it seriously. The whole question is who will carry it out.
v. 9The hardest cry, in the light of Jesus Christ
The last verse is shocking, and it must not be softened: “Happy shall he be, who takes and dashes your little ones against the rock.” These words are born of trauma. During the siege of Jerusalem, children died of hunger in their mothers' arms (Lamentations 2:11-12), and the wars of the time did not spare the smallest. The psalmist cries out to God what he has seen. Christians read this verse in several ways: as a raw pain that the Bible does not censor, as the echo of the judgment the prophets announced against Babylon (Isaiah 13:16), or, among Church Fathers such as Augustine, as the image of evil to be broken from its birth against the rock that is Christ. None of these readings makes it a model to follow. Jesus asks us to love our enemies and to pray for those who persecute us (Matthew 5:44). Paul urges us not to take revenge, but to leave room for God's wrath (Romans 12:19). On the cross, Jesus prays for those who crucify him (Luke 23:34). Tell God your anger: he alone can teach you the way of forgiveness.
How to pray Psalm 137
When to pray this psalm
- When you live far from your country or your loved ones and homesickness tightens your heart.
- When sadness is so heavy that you can no longer sing or praise God.
- When you have lost your home, your church or a place that meant a great deal to you.
- When people mock your faith or expect a show of joy from you.
- When you have suffered a serious injustice and anger, even the urge for revenge, overwhelms you.
- When you pray for refugees, displaced people or persecuted Christians.
A prayer inspired by Psalm 137
Lord, I am sitting by my own rivers of Babylon, and I am weeping. You know what I have lost, that place, those people, that life I thought was solid. Some days I have hung up my harp: I can no longer sing, and I do not want to pretend before you. Yet I do not want to forget you. Let my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth if I stop remembering your promises. I also tell you my anger. You know what was done to me, and what others are suffering right now: peoples crushed, families torn apart, children who are victims of war. Remember, Lord. Bring justice, you who are the righteous judge. I do not want to take revenge myself or wish harm on anyone. I hand my cause over to you, like Jesus who, on the cross, prayed for those who crucified him. Teach me to love my enemies, even when it seems impossible to me. Protect the children of all peoples. And turn my heart toward the new Jerusalem, where you will wipe every tear from our eyes. Amen.
Key verses
By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down. Yes, we wept, when we remembered Zion.
The psalm opens with the tears of exile. The people remember Zion, their place of worship, and name their grief without hiding it.
How can we sing Yahweh’s song in a foreign land?
The question shows how hard it is to praise God in a foreign land, when the heart is broken. It shows that true praise cannot be manufactured.
If I forget you, Jerusalem, let my right hand forget its skill. Let my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth if I don’t remember you, if I don’t prefer Jerusalem above my chief joy.
The exiles swear never to forget Jerusalem. Remembering God and his people is an act of faithfulness in trial.
Happy shall he be, who takes and dashes your little ones against the rock.
The last verse is one of the hardest in the Bible. It voices human anger at injustice, without giving an instruction to imitate. Christian traditions read it with caution and place it in the light of Jesus' call to love our enemies.
Test your knowledge
Frequently asked questions about Psalm 137
What does Psalm 137 mean?
Psalm 137 is a song of sorrow written during or just after the exile in Babylon. The people of Judah express their longing for Jerusalem, their refusal to sing for their oppressors and their oath not to forget their city. It ends with a cry for vengeance. It is one of the rare psalms where anger is not softened.
Why does Psalm 137 end with such a violent verse?
Verse 9 voices the anger of a people who saw their children slaughtered when Jerusalem fell. The Bible does not erase this emotion, it hands it over to God. Many commentators see in it a cry of pain, without finding a model of conduct: Jesus asks us to love our enemies. Christian traditions differ on how to read it.
How do you pray Psalm 137 today?
This psalm suits anyone going through a trial, an exile, a loss, or who feels far from home. Read verses 1 to 4 telling God what weighs on you, without forcing yourself to sing. Then pray verses 5 and 6, asking not to forget what God has done. Then hand your anger to God, without taking revenge yourself.
World English Bible translation — public domain.