Psalms 65
1 To the Chief Musician. A Melody of David—a song. Thine, are silence [and] praise, O God, in Zion, —And, to thee, shall be paid the vow.
Til Sangmesteren. En Salme af David. En Sang.
2 Thou hearer of prayer! Unto thee, shall all flesh come.
Lovsang tilkommer dig paa Zion, o Gud, dig indfrier man Løfter, du, som hører Bønner;
3 Iniquitous things, have been too strong for me, As for our transgressions, wilt, thou, by propitiation remove them.
alt Kød kommer til dig, naar Brøden tynger.
4 How happy the man thou shalt choose and bring near! He shall abide in thy courts, —We shall be satisfied with, The blessing of thy house, The holiness of thy temple.
Vore Overtrædelser blev os for svare, du tilgiver dem.
5 By things reverend in righteousness, wilt thou answer us, O God of our salvation, The confidence of all the ends of the earth, And of the sea far away;
Salig den, du udvælger, lader bo i dine Forgaarde! Vi mættes af dit Huses Rigdom, dit Tempels Hellighed.
6 Who setteth fast the mountains by his strength, Being girded with might;
Du svarer os underfuldt i Retfærd, vor Frelses Gud, du Tilflugt for den vide Jord, for fjerne Strande,
7 Who stilleth, The noise of the seas, The noise of their rolling waves, and The tumult of races of men?
du, som grundfæster Bjerge med Vælde, omgjordet med Kraft,
8 Yea the dwellers in the uttermost parts have feared at thy tokens, The goings forth of morning and evening, thou causest to shout for joy.
du, som dæmper Havenes Brusen, deres Bølgers Brusen og Folkefærds Larm,
9 Thou hast visited the earth, and made it abound, Abundantly, dost thou enrich it—The channel of God, is full of waters, Thou preparest their corn, Yea, thus, dost thou prepare it:
saa Folk ved Verdens Ende gruer for dine Tegn; hvor Morgen og Aften oprinder, bringer du Jubel.
10 The ridges thereof, drenching, Settling the furrows thereof, With myriad drops, dost thou soften it, The sprouting thereof, doth thou bless.
Du saa til Landet, vanded det, gjorde det saare rigt, Guds Bæk er fuld af Vand, du bereder dets Korn,
11 Thou hast set a crown upon thy year of bounty, And, thy tracks, drop fatness;
du vander dets Furer, jævner knoldene, bløder det med Regn, velsigner dets Sæd.
12 Fruitful are the pastures of the wilderness, And, with exultation, the hills do gird themselves.
Med din Herlighed kroner du Aaret, dine Vognspor flyder af Fedme;
13 Clothed are the pastures with flocks, The valleys also, cover themselves with corn, They shout for joy, yea they sing.
de øde Græsgange flyder, med Jubel omgjordes Højene; Engene klædes med Faar, Dalene hylles i Korn, i Jubel bryder de ud og synger!
