Psalms 3
1 A Melody of David, when he fled from before Absolom his son. Yahweh! how have mine adversaries multiplied, Multitudes, are rising against me;
En Salme af David, da han flygtede for sin Søn Absalom.
2 Multitudes, are saying of my soul, —No salvation for him in God. (Selah)
HERRE, hvor er mine Fjender mange! Mange er de, som rejser sig mod mig,
3 But, thou, Yahweh, art a shield about me, my glory, and the lifter up of my head.
mange, som siger om min Sjæl: »Der er ingen Frelse for ham hos Gud!« (Sela)
4 With my voice—unto Yahweh, do I cry, and he hath answered me out of his holy mountain. (Selah)
Men, HERRE, du er et Skjold for mig, min Ære og den, der løfter mit Hoved.
5 I, laid me down and slept, —I awoke, Surely, Yahweh, sustaineth me!
Jeg raaber højlydt til HERREN, han svarer mig fra sit hellige Bjerg. (Sela)
6 I will not be afraid of myriads of people, who, round about, have set themselves against me.
Jeg lagde mig og sov ind, jeg vaagned, thi HERREN holder mig oppe.
7 Rise! Yahweh, Save me, my God. Surely thou hast smitten all my foes on the cheekbone, The teeth of the lawless, hast thou broken.
Jeg frygter ikke Titusinder af Folk, som trindt om lejrer sig mod mig.
8 To Yahweh, belongeth Salvation! Upon thy people, be thy blessing. (Selah)
Rejs dig, HERRE, frels mig, min Gud, thi alle mine Fjender slog du paa Kind, du brød de gudløses Tænder! Hos HERREN er Frelsen; din Velsignelse over dit Folk! (Sela)
