Salme 17
1 En Bøn af David. HERRE, hør en retfærdig Sag, lyt til min Klage, laan Øre til Bøn fra svigløse Læber!
A Prayer of David. Hear, O Jehovah, righteousness, attend my cry, Give ear [to] my prayer, without lips of deceit.
2 Fra dig skal min Ret udgaa, thi hvad ret er, ser dine Øjne.
From before thee my judgment doth go out; Thine eyes do see uprightly.
3 Prøv mit Hjerte, se efter om Natten, ransag mig, du finder ej Svig hos mig.
Thou hast proved my heart, Thou hast inspected by night, Thou hast tried me, Thou findest nothing; My thoughts pass not over my mouth.
4 Ej synded min Mund, hvad end Mennesker gjorde; ved dine Læbers Ord vogted jeg mig for Voldsmænds Veje;
As to doings of man, Through a word of Thy lips I have observed The paths of a destroyer;
5 mine Skridt har holdt dine Spor, jeg vaklede ej paa min Gang.
To uphold my goings in Thy paths, My steps have not slidden.
6 Jeg raaber til dig, thi du svarer mig, Gud, bøj Øret til mig, hør paa mit Ord!
I — I called Thee, for Thou dost answer me, O God, incline Thine ear to me, hear my speech.
7 Vis dig underfuldt naadig, du Frelser for dem, der tyr til din højre for Fjender!
Separate wonderfully Thy kindness, O Saviour of the confiding, By Thy right hand, from withstanders.
8 Vogt mig som Øjestenen, skjul mig i dine Vingers Skygge
Keep me as the apple, the daughter of the eye; In shadow of Thy wings thou dost hide me.
9 for gudløse, der øver Vold imod mig, glubske Fjender, som omringer mig;
From the face of the wicked who spoiled me. Mine enemies in soul go round against me.
10 de har lukket deres Hjerte med Fedt, deres Mund fører Hovmodstale.
Their fat they have closed up, Their mouths have spoken with pride:
11 De omringer os, overalt hvor vi gaar, de sigter paa at slaa os til Jorden.
'Our steps now have compassed [him];' Their eyes they set to turn aside in the land.
12 De er som den rovgridske Løve, den unge Løve, der ligger paa Lur.
His likeness as a lion desirous to tear, As a young lion dwelling in secret places.
13 Rejs dig, HERRE, træd ham i Møde, kast ham til Jorden, fri med dit Sværd min Sjæl fra den gudløses Vold,
Arise, O Jehovah, go before his face, Cause him to bend. Deliver my soul from the wicked, Thy sword,
14 fra Mændene, HERRE, med din Haand, fra dødelige Mænd — lad dem faa deres Del i levende Live! Fyld deres Bug med dit Forraad af Vrede, lad Børnene mættes dermed og efterlade deres Børn, hvad de levner!
From men, Thy hand, O Jehovah, From men of the world, their portion [is] in life, And [with] Thy hidden things Thou fillest their belly, They are satisfied [with] sons; And have left their abundance to their sucklings.
15 Men jeg skal i Retfærd skue dit Aasyn, mættes ved din Skikkelse, naar jeg vaagner.
I — in righteousness, I see Thy face; I am satisfied, in awaking, [with] Thy form!
