Salme 144
1 Af David. Lovet være HERREN, min Klippe, som oplærer mine hænder til Strid, mine Fingre til Krig,
[A Psalm off] David. Blessed be the LORD my rock, which teacheth my hands to war, [and] my fingers to fight:
2 min Miskundhed og min Fæstning, min Klippeborg, min Frelser, mit Skjold og den, jeg lider paa, som underlægger mig Folkeslag!
My lovingkindness, and my fortress, my high tower, and my deliverer; my shield, and he in whom I trust; who subdueth my people under me.
3 HERRE, hvad er et Menneske, at du kendes ved det, et Menneskebarn, at du agter paa ham?
LORD, what is man, that thou takest knowledge of him? or the son of man, that thou makest account of him?
4 Mennesket er som et Aandepust, dets Dage som svindende Skygge.
Man is like to vanity: his days are as a shadow that passeth away.
5 HERRE, sænk din Himmel, stig ned og rør ved Bjergene, saa at de ryger;
Bow thy heavens, O LORD, and come down: touch the mountains, and they shall smoke.
6 slyng Lynene ud og adsplit Fjenderne, send dine Pile og indjag dem Rædsel;
Cast forth lightning, and scatter them; send out thine arrows, and discomfit them.
7 udræk din Haand fra det høje, fri og frels mig fra store Vande,
Stretch forth thine hand from above; rescue me, and deliver me out of great waters, out of the hand of strangers;
8 fra fremmedes Haand, de, hvis Mund taler Løgn, hvis højre er Løgnehaand.
Whose mouth speaketh vanity, and their right hand is a right hand of falsehood.
9 Gud, jeg vil synge dig en ny Sang, lege for dig paa tistrenget Harpe,
I will sing a new song unto thee, O God: upon a psaltery of ten strings will I sing praises unto thee.
10 du, som giver Konger Sejr og udfrier David, din Tjener.
It is he that giveth salvation unto kings: who rescueth David his servant from the hurtful sword.
11 Fri mig fra det onde Sværd, frels mig fra fremmedes Haand, de, hvis Mund taler Løgn, hvis højre er Løgnehaand.
Rescue me, and deliver me out of the hand of strangers, whose mouth speaketh vanity, and their right hand is a right hand of falsehood.
12 I Ungdommen er vore Sønner som højvoksne Planter, vore Døtre er som Søjler, udhugget i Tempelstil;
When our sons shall be as plants grown up in their youth; and our daughters as corner stones hewn after the fashion of a palace;
13 vore Forraadskamre er fulde, de yder Forraad paa Forraad, vore Hjorde føder Tusinder, Titusinder paa vore Marker,
[When] our garners are full, affording all manner of store; [and] our sheep bring forth thousands and ten thousands in our fields;
14 fede er vore Okser; intet Murbrud, ingen Udvandring, ingen Skrigen paa Torvene.
[When] our oxen are well laden; [when there is] no breaking in, and no going forth, and no outcry in our streets;
15 Saligt det Folk, der er saaledes stedt, saligt det Folk, hvis Gud er HERREN!
Happy is the people, that is in such a case: [yea], happy is the people, whose God is the LORD.
