Psalmi 144
1 Davidov. Blagoslovljen Jahve, hridina moja: ruke mi uči boju a prste ratu.
“By David.” Blessed be the Lord my Rock, who exerciseth my hands for the battle, my fingers for the war:
2 On je ljubav moja i tvrđava moja, zaštita moja, izbavitelj moj, štit moj za koji se sklanjam; on mi narode stavlja pod noge!
My kindness, and my strong-hold; my high tower, and my deliverer; my shield, and he in whom I trust; who subdueth my people under me.
3 Što je čovjek, o Jahve, da ga poznaješ, što li čedo ljudsko da ga se spominješ?
Lord, what is man, that thou takest cognizance of him: the son of a mortal, that thou regardest him!
4 Poput daška je čovjek, dani njegovi kao sjena nestaju.
Man is like the breath: his days are like a passing shadow.
5 Jahve, nagni svoja nebesa i siđi, takni bregove: i zadimit će se!
O Lord, bend thy heavens, and come down: touch the mountains, that they may smoke.
6 Sijevni munjom i rasprši dušmane, odapni strijele i rasprši ih!
Cast forth lightning, and scatter them: send out thy arrows, and confound them.
7 Ruku pruži iz visina, istrgni me i spasi iz voda beskrajnih, iz šaka sinova tuđinskih:
Stretch out thy hands from above; rid me, and deliver me out of great waters, from the hand of the children of the stranger.
8 laži govore usta njihova, a desnica krivo priseže.
Whose mouth speaketh vanity, and whose right hand is the right hand of falsehood.
9 Pjevat ću ti, Bože, pjesmu novu, na harfi od deset žica svirat ću.
O God, a new song will I sing unto thee: upon the ten-stringed psaltery will I sing praises unto thee.
10 Ti daješ pobjedu kraljevima, koji si spasio Davida, slugu svojega. Od pogubna mača
[Thou art he] that giveth victory unto kings: who riddeth David his servant from the evil-bringing sword.
11 spasi mene, oslobodi me iz ruke tuđinske; laži govore usta njihova, a desnica krivo priseže.
Rid me, and deliver me from the hand of the children of the stranger, whose mouth speaketh vanity, and whose right hand is the right hand of falsehood.
12 Daj da nam sinovi budu kao biljke što rastu od mladosti svoje; a kćeri naše kao stupovi ugaoni, krasne poput hramskog stupovlja;
So that our sons may be like plants, grown up in their youth: our daughters, like corner-pillars, sculptured in the model of a palace.
13 da nam žitnice budu pune svakog obilja, s plodovima svakojakim u izobilju;
May our garners be full, furnishing all manner of store: our sheep bringing forth thousands and ten thousands in our open pastures.
14 ovce naše plodile se na tisuće, plodile se beskrajno na našim poljima; stoka naša neka bude tovna! U zidinama nam ne bilo proboja ni ropstva ni plača na ulicama našim!
May our oxen be strong to labor: may there be no breach, nor migration, nor loud complaint in our streets.
15 Blago narodu kojem je tako, blago narodu kojem je Jahve Bog!
Happy the people, that fare thus: happy the people, whose God is the Lord.
