Salme 11

1 Til Sangmesteren. Af David. Jeg tager min Tilflugt til HERREN! Hvor kan I sige til min Sjæl: »Fly som en Fugl til Bjergene!

To the chief Musician. [A Psalm] of David. In Jehovah have I put my trust: how say ye to my soul, Flee [as] a bird to your mountain?

2 Thi se, de gudløse spænder Buen, lægger Pilen til Rette paa Strengen for i Mørke at ramme de oprigtige af Hjertet.

For behold, the wicked bend the bow, they make ready their arrow upon the string, that they may in darkness shoot at the upright in heart.

3 Naar selv Grundpillerne styrter, hvad gør den retfærdige da?«

If the foundations be destroyed, what shall the righteous do?

4 HERREN er i sin hellige Hal, i Himlen er HERRENS Trone; paa Jorderig skuer hans Øjne ned, hans Blik ransager Menneskens Børn;

Jehovah [is] in the temple of his holiness; Jehovah, — his throne is in the heavens: his eyes behold, his eyelids try the children of men.

5 retfærdige og gudløse ransager HERREN; dem, der elsker Uret, hader hans Sjæl;

Jehovah trieth the righteous one; but the wicked, and him that loveth violence, his soul hateth.

6 over gudløse sender han Regn af Gløder og Svovl, et Stormvejr er deres tilmaalte Bæger.

Upon the wicked he shall rain snares, fire and brimstone; and scorching wind shall be the portion of their cup.

7 Thi retfærdig er HERREN, han elsker at øve Retfærd, de oprigtige skuer hans Aasyn!

For righteous is Jehovah; he loveth righteousness, his countenance doth behold the upright.