Salme 39
1 (Til sangmesteren. Til Jedutun. En salme af David.) Jeg sagde: "Mine Veje vil jeg vogte på, så jeg ikke synder med Tungen; min Mund vil jeg holde i Tømme, så længe den gudløse er mig nær!"
Unto the end. For Jeduthun himself. A Canticle of David. I said, “I will keep to my ways, so that I will not offend with my tongue.” I posted a guard at my mouth, when a sinner took up a position against me.
2 Jeg var stum og tavs, jeg tav for at undgå tomme Ord, men min Smerte naged,
I was silenced and humbled, and I was quiet before good things, and my sorrow was renewed.
3 mit Hjerte brændte i Brystet, Ild lued op, mens jeg grunded; da talte jeg med min Tunge.
My heart grew hot within me, and, during my (meditation) a fire would flare up.
4 Lær mig, HERRE, at kende mit Endeligt, det Mål af Dage, jeg har, lad mig kende, hvor snart jeg skal bort!
I spoke with my tongue, “O Lord, make me know my end, and what the number of my days will be, so that I may know what is lacking to me.”
5 Se, i Håndsbredder målte du mine Dage ud, mit Liv er som intet for dig, som et Åndepust står hvert Menneske der. (Sela)
Behold, you have made my days measurable, and, before you, my substance is as nothing. Yet truly, all things are vanity: every living man.
6 Kun som en Skygge er Menneskets Vandring, kun Tomhed er deres Travlhed; de samler og ved ej, hvem der får det.
So then, truly man passes by like an image; even so, he is disquieted in vain. He stores up, and he knows not for whom he will gather these things.
7 Hvad bier jeg, Herre, da efter? Mit Håb står ene til dig.
And now, what is it that awaits me? Is it not the Lord? And my substance is with you.
8 Fri mig for al min Synd, gør mig ikke til Spot for Dårer!
Rescue me from all my iniquities. You have handed me over as a reproach to the foolish.
9 Jeg tier og åbner ikke min Mund, du voldte det jo.
I was silenced, and I did not open my mouth, because it was you who acted.
10 Borttag din Plage fra mig, under din vældige Hånd går jeg til.
Remove your scourges from me.
11 Når du tugter en Mand med Straf for hans Brøde, smuldrer du hans Herlighed hen som Møl; kun et Åndepust er hvert Menneske. (Sela)
I fall short at corrections from the strength of your hand. For you have chastised man for iniquity. And you have made his soul shrink away like a spider. Nevertheless, it is in vain that any man be disquieted.
12 Hør, o HERRE, min Bøn og lyt til mit Skrig, til mine Tårer tie du ej! Thi en fremmed er jeg hos dig, en Gæst som alle mine Fædre.
O Lord, heed my prayer and my supplication. Pay attention to my tears. Do not be silent. For I am a newcomer with you, and a sojourner, just as all my fathers were.
13 Se bort fra mig, så jeg kvæges, før jeg går bort og ej mer er til!
Forgive me, so that I may be refreshed, before I will go forth and be no more.
