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. David’s. In Yahweh, have I sought refuge. How can ye say to my soul, Flee to a mountain like a little bird;

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

For lo! the lawless, bend the bow They have fixed their arrow upon the string, To shoot in the darkness at the upright in heart:

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

When the pillars are overthrown, What could, a righteous man, do?

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

Yahweh, is in his holy temple As for Yahweh, in the heavens, is his throne, His eyes, behold—His eyelashes test the sons of men.

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

Yahweh, putteth, the righteous, to the test, —But the lawless one and the lover of violence, his soul doth hate.

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

He will rain upon the lawless live-coals, Fire and brimstone and a burning wind, are the portion of their cup.

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

For righteous is Yahweh Righteousness, he loveth, the upright, shall behold his face.