Salme 31
1 Til Sangmesteren. En Salme af David. HERRE, jeg lider paa dig, lad mig aldrig i Evighed skuffes. Udfri mig i din Retfærd,
For the leader. A psalm of David. In you, O Lord, I take refuge; let me never be put to shame. Rescue me in your faithfulness;
2 du bøje dit Øre til mig; red mig i Hast og vær mig en Tilflugtsklippe, en Klippeborg til min Frelse;
incline to me your ear. Deliver me speedily. Be to me a rock of defence, a fortified house, to save me.
3 thi du er min Klippe og Borg. For dit Navns Skyld lede og føre du mig,
For my rock and my fortress are you; lead me and guide me so your name will be honored.
4 fri mig fra Garnet, de satte for mig; thi du er min Tilflugt,
Draw me out of the net they have hid for me, for you yourself are my refuge.
5 i din Haand befaler jeg min Aand. Du forløser mig, HERRE, du trofaste Gud,
Into your hand I commend my spirit: you ransom me, Lord, faithful God.
6 du hader dem, der holder paa Løgneguder. Men jeg, jeg stoler paa HERREN,
I hate those devoted to worthless idols; I trust in the Lord.
7 jeg vil juble og glæde mig over din Miskundhed; thi du har set min Nød, agtet paa min Sjælekvide.
I will rejoice and be glad in your love, because you have looked on my misery, and cared for me in my distress.
8 Du gav mig ikke i Fjendens Haand, men skaffede Rum for min Fod.
You have not given me into the enemy’s hand, you have set my feet in a spacious place.
9 Vær mig naadig, HERRE, thi jeg er angst, af Kummer hentæres mit Øje, min Sjæl og mit Indre.
Be gracious to me, Lord, for I am distressed; my eye is wasted away with sorrow.
10 Thi mit Liv svinder hen i Sorg, mine Aar i Suk, min Kraft er brudt for min Brødes Skyld, mine Ben hentæres.
For my life is consumed with grief, and my years with sighing. My strength is broken with misery, my bones waste away.
11 For alle mine Fjenders Skyld er jeg blevet til Spot, mine Naboers Gru, mine Kendinges Rædsel; de, der ser mig paa Gaden, flygter for mig.
The scorn of all my foes, the butt of my neighbors am I, a terror to my acquaintance. At the sight of me in the street people turn quickly away.
12 Som en død er jeg gaaet dem af Minde, jeg er som et ødelagt Kar.
I am clean forgotten like the dead, am become like a ruined vessel.
13 Thi mange hører jeg hviske, trindt om er Rædsel, naar de holder Raad imod mig, pønser paa at tage mit Liv.
I hear the whispers of many – terror on every side – scheming together against me, plotting to take my life.
14 Men, HERRE, jeg stoler paa dig; jeg siger: Du er min Gud,
But my trust is in you, Lord. “You are my God,” I say;
15 mine Tider er i din Haand. Red mig fra Fjenders Haand, fra dem, der forfølger mig,
my times are in your hand, save me from the hand of the foes who pursue me.
16 lad dit Ansigt lyse over din Tjener, frels mig i din Miskundhed.
Make your face to shine on your servant, save me in your love.
17 HERRE, lad mig ej blive til Skamme, jeg raaber jo til dig, lad de gudløse blive til Skamme og synke tavse i Døden. (Sheol h7585)
Put me not, O Lord, to shame, for I have called upon you. Let the wicked be put to shame silent in Sheol. (Sheol h7585)
18 Lad de falske Læber forstumme, som taler frækt om den retfærdige med Hovmod og Foragt.
Strike the false lips dumb, that speak proudly against the righteous with haughtiness and contempt.
19 Hvor stor er dog din Godhed, som du gemmer til dem, der frygter dig, øver mod dem, der lider paa dig, for Menneskebørnenes Øjne.
How great is the goodness you have treasured for those who fear you, and wrought for those who take refuge in you, in plain sight of all!
20 Du skjuler dem i dit Aasyns Skjul for Menneskers Stimmel; du gemmer dem i en Hytte for Tungers Kiv.
In your sheltering wings you hide them from plottings of people, you keep them safe in a bower from the chiding of tongues.
21 Lovet være HERREN, thi underfuld Miskundhed har han vist mig i en befæstet Stad.
Blest be the Lord for the wonderful love he has shown me in time of distress.
22 Og jeg, som sagde i min Angst: »Jeg er bortstødt fra dine Øjne!« Visselig, du hørte min tryglende Røst, da jeg raabte til dig.
For I had said in panic, “I am driven clean out of your sight.” But you heard my plea, when I cried to you for help.
23 Elsk HERREN, alle hans fromme; de trofaste skærmer HERREN; men den, der handler i Hovmod, gengælder han mangefold.
Love the Lord, all you faithful; the Lord protects the loyal, but repays the haughty in full.
24 Fat Mod, eders Hjerte være stærkt, alle I, som bier paa HERREN!
Let your hearts be courageous and strong, all you who wait on the Lord.
