Salme 10
1 Hvorfor står du så fjernt, o Herre, hvi dølger du dig i Trængselstider?
Why standest thou farre off, O Lord, and hidest thee in due time, euen in affliction?
2 Den gudløse jager i Hovmod den arme, fanger ham i de Rænker, han spinder;
The wicked with pride doeth persecute the poore: let them be taken in the craftes that they haue imagined.
3 thi den gudløse praler af sin Sjæls Attrå, den gridske forbander, ringeagter HERREN.
For the wicked hath made boast of his owne heartes desire, and the couetous blesseth himselfe: he contemneth the Lord.
4 Den gudløse siger i Hovmod: "Han hjemsøger ej, der er ingen Gud"; det er alle hans Tanker.
The wicked is so proude that hee seeketh not for God: hee thinketh alwayes, There is no God.
5 Dog altid lykkes hans Vej, højt over ham går dine Domme; han blæser ad alle sine Fjender.
His wayes alway prosper: thy iudgements are hie aboue his sight: therefore defieth he all his enemies.
6 Han siger i Hjertet: "Jeg rokkes ej, kommer ikke i Nød fra Slægt til Slægt."
He saith in his heart, I shall neuer be moued, nor be in danger.
7 Hans Mund er fuld af Banden og Svig og Vold, Fordærv og Uret er under hans Tunge;
His mouth is full of cursing and deceite and fraude: vnder his tongue is mischiefe and iniquitie.
8 han lægger sig på Lur i Landsbyer, dræber i Løn den skyldfri, efter Staklen spejder hans Øjne;
He lieth in waite in the villages: in the secret places doeth hee murder the innocent: his eyes are bent against the poore.
9 han lurer i Skjul som Løve i Krat, på at fange den arme lurer han, han fanger den arme ind i sit Garn;
He lyeth in waite secretly, euen as a lyon in his denne: he lyeth in waite to spoyle the poore: he doeth spoyle the poore, when he draweth him into his net.
10 han dukker sig, sidder på Spring, og Staklerne falder i hans Kløer.
He croucheth and boweth: therefore heaps of the poore doe fall by his might.
11 Han siger i Hjertet: "Gud glemmer, han skjuler sit Åsyn; han ser det aldrig."
He hath said in his heart, God hath forgotten, he hideth away his face, and will neuer see.
12 Rejs dig, HERRE! Gud, løft din Hånd, de arme glemme du ikke!
Arise, O Lord God: lift vp thine hande: forget not the poore.
13 Hvorfor skal en gudløs spotte Gud, sige i Hjertet, du hjemsøger ikke?
Wherefore doeth the wicked contemne God? he saith in his heart, Thou wilt not regard.
14 Du skuer dog Møje og Kvide, ser det og tager det i din Hånd; Staklen tyr hen til dig, du er den faderløses Hjælper.
Yet thou hast seene it: for thou beholdest mischiefe and wrong, that thou mayest take it into thine handes: the poore committeth himselfe vnto thee: for thou art the helper of the fatherlesse.
15 Knus den ondes, den gudløses Arm, hjemsøg hans Gudløshed, så den ej findes!
Breake thou the arme of the wicked and malicious: searche his wickednes, and thou shalt finde none.
16 HERREN er Konge evigt og altid, Hedningerne er ryddet bort af hans Land;
The Lord is King for euer and euer: the heathen are destroyed foorth of his land.
17 du har hørt de ydmyges Ønske, HERRE, du styrker deres Hjerte, vender Øret til
Lord, thou hast heard the desire of the poore: thou preparest their heart: thou bendest thine eare to them,
18 for at skaffe fortrykte og faderløse Ret. Ikke skal dødelige mer øve Vold.
To iudge the fatherlesse and poore, that earthly man cause to feare no more.
