Salme 88
1 En Sang, en Psalme; af Koras Børn; til Sangmesteren; til Makalath-Leanoth; en Undervisning af Heman, Esrahiteren. Herre, min Frelses Gud! jeg har raabt om Dagen, ja, om Natten for dig.
A Song. A Psalm. Of the sons of Korah. To the chief music-maker; put to Mahalath Leannoth. Maschil. Of Heman the Ezrahite. O Lord, God of my salvation, I have been crying to you for help by day and by night:
2 Lad min Bøn komme for dit Ansigt, bøj dit Øre til mit Raab!
Let my prayer come before you; give ear to my cry:
For my soul is full of evils, and my life has come near to the underworld. (Sheol h7585)
4 Jeg agtes lige med dem, som fare ned i Hulen, jeg er som en Mand uden Kraft,
I am numbered among those who go down into the earth; I have become like a man for whom there is no help:
5 løsladt iblandt de døde, som de ihjelslagne, der ligge i Graven, hvilke du ikke ydermere kommer i Hu, da de ere udrevne af din Haand.
My soul is among the dead, like those in the underworld, to whom you give no more thought; for they are cut off from your care.
6 Du har lagt mig i Hulen hernedenunder, i de mørke, i de dybe Steder.
You have put me in the lowest deep, even in dark places.
7 Din Vrede har lagt sig tungt paa mig, og du trænger mig med alle dine Bølger. (Sela)
The weight of your wrath is crushing me, all your waves have overcome me. (Selah)
8 Du har fjernet mine Kyndinger langt fra mig, du har gjort mig vederstyggelig for dem, jeg er indelukket og gaar ikke ud.
You have sent my friends far away from me; you have made me a disgusting thing in their eyes: I am shut up, and not able to come out.
9 Mit Øje er bedrøvet af Elendighed; Herre! jeg har raabt til dig den ganske Dag, jeg har udbredt mine Hænder til dig.
My eyes are wasting away because of my trouble: Lord, my cry has gone up to you every day, my hands are stretched out to you.
10 Vil du vel gøre Undere for de døde? eller skulle Dødninger opstaa, skulle de takke dig? (Sela)
Will you do works of wonder for the dead? will the shades come back to give you praise? (Selah)
11 Fortælles der vel i Graven om din Miskundhed? om din Sandhed i Dødens Bo?
Will the story of your mercy be given in the house of the dead? will news of your faith come to the place of destruction?
12 Kendes vel dine Undere i Mørket? eller din Retfærdighed i Forglemmelsens Land?
May there be knowledge of your wonders in the dark? or of your righteousness where memory is dead?
13 Men jeg har raabt til dig Herre! og min Bøn kommer dig i Møde om Morgenen.
But to you did I send up my cry, O Lord; in the morning my prayer came before you.
14 Hvorfor, Herre! forkaster du min Sjæl? du skjuler dit Ansigt for mig.
Lord, why have you sent away my soul? why is your face covered from me?
15 Elendig er jeg og som en døende fra min Ungdom af; jeg bærer paa Rædsel for dig, jeg maa fortvivle.
I have been troubled and in fear of death from the time when I was young; your wrath is hard on me, and I have no strength.
16 Din Vredes Flammer ere gaaede hen over mig; Rædsler for dig have tilintetgjort mig.
The heat of your wrath has gone over me; I am broken by your cruel punishments.
17 De have omringet mig som Vande den ganske Dag, de have omspændt mig tilsammen.
They are round me all the day like water; they have made a circle about me.
18 Du har fjernet min Ven og Stalbroder langt fra mig; mine Kyndinger ere Mørkets Sted.
You have sent my friends and lovers far from me; I am gone from the memory of those who are dear to me.
