Salme 39
1 Til Sangmesteren. Til Jedutun. En Salme af David.
Unto the end. For Jeduthun himself. A Canticle of David. I said, “I will keep to my ways, so that I will not offend with my tongue.” I posted a guard at my mouth, when a sinner took up a position against 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 silenced and humbled, and I was quiet before good things, and my sorrow was renewed.
3 Jeg var stum og tavs, jeg tav for at undgaa tomme Ord, men min Smerte naged,
My heart grew hot within me, and, during my (meditation) a fire would flare up.
4 mit Hjerte brændte i Brystet, Ild lued op, mens jeg grunded; da talte jeg med min Tunge.
I spoke with my tongue, “O Lord, make me know my end, and what the number of my days will be, so that I may know what is lacking to me.”
5 Lær mig, HERRE, at kende mit Endeligt, det Maal af Dage, jeg har, lad mig kende, hvor snart jeg skal bort!
Behold, you have made my days measurable, and, before you, my substance is as nothing. Yet truly, all things are vanity: every living man.
6 Se, i Haandsbredder maalte du mine Dage ud, mit Liv er som intet for dig, som et Aandepust staar hvert Menneske der. (Sela)
So then, truly man passes by like an image; even so, he is disquieted in vain. He stores up, and he knows not for whom he will gather these things.
7 Kun som en Skygge er Menneskets Vandring, kun Tomhed er deres Travlhed; de samler og ved ej, hvem der faar det.
And now, what is it that awaits me? Is it not the Lord? And my substance is with you.
8 Hvad bier jeg, Herre, da efter? Mit Haab staar ene til dig.
Rescue me from all my iniquities. You have handed me over as a reproach to the foolish.
9 Fri mig for al min Synd, gør mig ikke til Spot for Daarer!
I was silenced, and I did not open my mouth, because it was you who acted.
10 Jeg tier og aabner ikke min Mund, du voldte det jo.
Remove your scourges from me.
11 Borttag din Plage fra mig, under din vældige Haand gaar jeg til.
I fall short at corrections from the strength of your hand. For you have chastised man for iniquity. And you have made his soul shrink away like a spider. Nevertheless, it is in vain that any man be disquieted.
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)
O Lord, heed my prayer and my supplication. Pay attention to my tears. Do not be silent. For I am a newcomer with you, and a sojourner, just 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!
Forgive me, so that I may be refreshed, before I will go forth and be no more.
