Psalms 3
1 A psalm of David, when he fled from his son Absalom. How many, Lord, are my foes! Those who rise up against me are many.
Dawut öz oghli Abshalomdin qéchip yürgen künlerde yazghan küy: — I Perwerdigar, méni qistawatqanlar neqeder köpiyip ketken, Men bilen qarshilishiwatqanlar némidégen köp!
2 Many are those who say of me, ‘There is no help for him in his God.’ (Selah)
Nurghunlar men toghruluq: — «Xudadin uninggha héch nijat yoqtur!» déyishiwatidu. (Sélah)
3 But you, Lord, are shield about me, my glory, who lifts up my head.
Biraq Sen, i Perwerdigar, etrapimdiki qalqandursen; Shan-sheripim hem béshimni yöligüchidursen!
4 When loudly I call to the Lord, from his holy hill he gives answer. (Selah)
Awazim bilen men Perwerdigargha nida qilimen, U muqeddes téghidin ijabet béridu. (Sélah)
5 I laid down and slept: now I wake, for the Lord sustains me.
Men bolsam yattim, uxlidim; Oyghandim, chünki Perwerdigar manga yar-yölek bolidu.
6 I fear not the myriads of people who beset me on every side.
Méni qorshap sep tüzgen tümenligen ademler bolsimu, Men ulardin qorqmaymen!
7 Arise, Lord: save me, my God, who strikes all my foes on the cheek, and shatters the teeth of the wicked.
I Perwerdigar, ornungdin tur! Méni qutquz, i Xudayim! Méning barliq düshmenlirimning testikige salghaysen; Rezillerning chishlirini chéqiwetkeysen!
8 Victory belongs to the Lord: let your blessing descend on your people. (Selah)
Nijatliq bolsa Perwerdigardindur; Berikiting Öz xelqingde bolsun! (Sélah)
