Salme 144
1 Lovet være Herren, min Klippe! han, som lærer mine Hænder til Striden, mine Fingre til Krigen,
A psalm of David. Praise the Lord—he is my rock. He trains me for battle, he gives me skill for war.
2 han, som er Miskundhed imod mig og min Befæstning, min faste Borg og min Befrier, mit Skjold og den, paa hvem jeg har forladt mig; han, som tvinger mit Folk under mig.
He is the one who faithfully loves me, protects me, and defends me. He is the one who rescues me, shields me from danger, and keeps me safe. He defeats nations and places them under my rule.
3 Herre! hvad er et Menneske, at du kendes ved ham? et Menneskes Barn, at du agter paa ham?
Lord, what are human beings that you should care about them? What are people that you should concern yourself with them?
4 Mennesket er ligt et Aandepust, hans Dage ere som en Skygge, der farer forbi.
Humanity is like a breath; their lives are like a passing shadow.
5 Herre! bøj dine Himle og far ned, rør ved Bjergene, saa at de ryge.
Part your heavens and come down. Touch the mountains so that they give off smoke.
6 Lad Lynet lyne og adspred dem, udskyd dine Pile og forfærd dem!
Scatter your enemies with flashes of lightning! Let your arrows fly and send them running in confusion!
7 Udræk dine Hænder fra det høje, udfri mig og red mig af de store Vande, af de fremmedes Haand,
Stretch down your hand from heaven and set me free. Rescue me from raging waters, from the oppression of foreign enemies.
8 hvis Mund taler Falskhed, og hvis højre Haand er Løgnens højre Haand.
They are such liars, even telling lies under oath.
9 Gud! jeg vil synge dig en ny Sang, jeg vil synge Psalmer for dig til Psalteren med ti Strenge,
God, I will sing a new song to you, accompanied by a ten-stringed harp,
10 ham, som giver Konger Frelse, som udriver sin Tjener David fra det grumme Sværd!
to you, the one who gives victory to kings. You saved your servant David from death by the sword.
11 Udfri mig og red mig af de fremmedes Haand, hvis Mund taler Falskhed, og hvis højre Haand er Løgnens højre Haand,
Set me free. Rescue me from the oppression of foreign enemies. They are such liars, even telling lies under oath.
12 at vore Sønner maa være som Planter, der ere komne til Frodighed i deres Ungdom; vore Døtre som Hjørnepiller, der ere udhuggede efter Templets Stil;
Then our sons will grow up like plants in their youth and become mature, and our daughters will be like beautiful pillars carved to support a palace.
13 at vore Forraadskamre maa være fulde, at de kunne frembyde baade det ene og det andet Slags; at vore Faar kunne føde tusinde, ja, ti Tusinde paa vore Gader;
Our storehouses will be full of all kinds of crops; our flocks of sheep will grow by thousands, increasing by tens of thousands in the pastures.
14 at vore Øksne maa være kraftige, at der intet Brud og ingen Afgang maa være, ej heller Klagemaal paa vore Gader.
Our cattle will grow fat. No one will break down our city walls, there will be no exile, no cries of mourning in our town squares.
15 Saligt er det Folk, som det gaar saaledes; saligt er det Folk, hvis Gud Herren er!
The people who live like this will be happy. Happy are those whose God is the Lord.
