Salme 39
1 Til Sangmesteren. Til Jedutun. En Salme af David.
I said, I will take heed to my ways, that I sin not with my tongue. I will keep my mouth with a bridle while the wicked man is before me.
2 Jeg sagde: »Mine Veje vil jeg vogte paa, saa jeg ikke synder med Tungen; min Mund vil jeg holde i Tømme, saa længe den gudløse er mig nær!«
I was mute with silence. I held my peace, even from good, and my sorrow was stirred.
3 Jeg var stum og tavs, jeg tav for at undgaa tomme Ord, men min Smerte naged,
My heart was hot within me. While I was musing the fire burned. Then I spoke with my tongue:
4 mit Hjerte brændte i Brystet, Ild lued op, mens jeg grunded; da talte jeg med min Tunge.
Jehovah, make me to know my end, and the measure of my days, what it is. Let me know how frail I am.
5 Lær mig, HERRE, at kende mit Endeligt, det Maal af Dage, jeg har, lad mig kende, hvor snart jeg skal bort!
Behold, thou have made my days as handbreadths, and my life-time is as nothing before thee. Surely every man at his best condition is altogether vanity. (Selah)
6 Se, i Haandsbredder maalte du mine Dage ud, mit Liv er som intet for dig, som et Aandepust staar hvert Menneske der. (Sela)
Surely every man walks in a shadow. Surely they are disquieted in vain. He heaps up, and knows not who shall gather them.
7 Kun som en Skygge er Menneskets Vandring, kun Tomhed er deres Travlhed; de samler og ved ej, hvem der faar det.
And now, Lord, what do I wait for? My hope is in thee.
8 Hvad bier jeg, Herre, da efter? Mit Haab staar ene til dig.
Deliver me from all my transgressions. Make me not the reproach of the foolish.
9 Fri mig for al min Synd, gør mig ikke til Spot for Daarer!
I was mute. I opened not my mouth, because thou did it.
10 Jeg tier og aabner ikke min Mund, du voldte det jo.
Remove thy stroke away from me. I am consumed by the blow of thy hand.
11 Borttag din Plage fra mig, under din vældige Haand gaar jeg til.
When thou have corrected man with rebukes for iniquity, thou make his beauty to disintegrate like a moth. Surely every man is vanity. (Selah)
12 Naar du tugter en Mand med Straf for hans Brøde, smuldrer du hans Herlighed hen som Møl; kun et Aandepust er hvert Menneske. (Sela)
Hear my prayer, O Jehovah, and give ear to my cry. Keep not silent at my tears, for I am a stranger with thee, a sojourner, as all my fathers were.
13 Hør, o HERRE, min Bøn og lyt til mit Skrig, til mine Taarer tie du ej! Thi en fremmed er jeg hos dig, en Gæst som alle mine Fædre. Se bort fra mig, saa jeg kvæges, før jeg gaar bort og ej mer er til!
O spare me, that I may recover strength before I go from here, and be no more.
