Psalms 144
1 By David. Blessed [is] Jehovah my rock, who is teaching My hands for war, my fingers for battle.
Af David. Lovet være HERREN, min Klippe, som oplærer mine hænder til Strid, mine Fingre til Krig,
2 My kind one, and my bulwark, My tower, and my deliverer, My shield, and in whom I have trusted, Who is subduing my people under me!
min Miskundhed og min Fæstning, min Klippeborg, min Frelser, mit Skjold og den, jeg lider paa, som underlægger mig Folkeslag!
3 Jehovah, what [is] man that Thou knowest him? Son of man, that Thou esteemest him?
HERRE, hvad er et Menneske, at du kendes ved det, et Menneskebarn, at du agter paa ham?
4 Man to vanity hath been like, His days [are] as a shadow passing by.
Mennesket er som et Aandepust, dets Dage som svindende Skygge.
5 Jehovah, incline Thy heavens and come down, Strike against mountains, and they smoke.
HERRE, sænk din Himmel, stig ned og rør ved Bjergene, saa at de ryger;
6 Send forth lightning, and scatter them, Send forth Thine arrows, and trouble them,
slyng Lynene ud og adsplit Fjenderne, send dine Pile og indjag dem Rædsel;
7 Send forth Thy hand from on high, Free me, and deliver me from many waters, From the hand of sons of a stranger,
udræk din Haand fra det høje, fri og frels mig fra store Vande,
8 Because their mouth hath spoken vanity, And their right hand [is] a right hand of falsehood.
fra fremmedes Haand, de, hvis Mund taler Løgn, hvis højre er Løgnehaand.
9 O God, a new song I sing to Thee, On a psaltery of ten strings I sing praise to Thee.
Gud, jeg vil synge dig en ny Sang, lege for dig paa tistrenget Harpe,
10 Who is giving deliverance to kings, Who is freeing David His servant from the sword of evil.
du, som giver Konger Sejr og udfrier David, din Tjener.
11 Free me, and deliver me From the hand of sons of a stranger, Because their mouth hath spoken vanity, And their right hand [is] a right hand of falsehood,
Fri mig fra det onde Sværd, frels mig fra fremmedes Haand, de, hvis Mund taler Løgn, hvis højre er Løgnehaand.
12 Because our sons [are] as plants, Becoming great in their youth, Our daughters as hewn stones, Polished — the likeness of a palace,
I Ungdommen er vore Sønner som højvoksne Planter, vore Døtre er som Søjler, udhugget i Tempelstil;
13 Our garners [are] full, bringing out from kind to kind, Our flocks are bringing forth thousands, Ten thousands in our out-places,
vore Forraadskamre er fulde, de yder Forraad paa Forraad, vore Hjorde føder Tusinder, Titusinder paa vore Marker,
14 Our oxen are carrying, there is no breach, And there is no outgoing, And there is no crying in our broad places.
fede er vore Okser; intet Murbrud, ingen Udvandring, ingen Skrigen paa Torvene.
15 O the happiness of the people that is thus, O the happiness of the people whose God [is] Jehovah!
Saligt det Folk, der er saaledes stedt, saligt det Folk, hvis Gud er HERREN!
