Salme 42
1 Til Sangmesteren. En Maskil af Koras Sønner.
For the end, [a Psalm] for instruction, for the sons of Core. As the hart earnestly desires the fountains of water, so my soul earnestly longs for you, O God.
2 Som Hjorten skriger efter rindende Vand, saaledes skriger min Sjæl efter dig, o Gud.
My soul has thirsted for the living God: when shall I come and appear before God?
3 Min Sjæl tørster efter Gud, den levende Gud; naar skal jeg komme og stedes for Guds Aasyn?
My tears have been bread to me day and night, while they daily said to me, Where is your God?
4 Min Graad er blevet mit Brød baade Dag og Nat, fordi de stadig spørger mig: »Hvor er din Gud?«
I remembered these things, and poured out my soul in me, for I will go to the place of your wondrous tabernacle, [even] to the house of God, with a voice of exultation and thanksgiving and of the sound of those who keep festival.
5 Min Sjæl er opløst, naar jeg kommer i Hu, hvorledes jeg vandred med Skaren op til Guds Hus under Jubelraab og Lovsang i Højtidsskaren.
Therefore are you very sad, O my soul? and therefore do you trouble me? hope in God; for I will give thanks to him; [he is] the salvation of my countenance.
6 Hvorfor er du nedbøjet, Sjæl, hvi bruser du i mig? Bi efter Gud, thi end skal jeg takke ham, mit Aasyns Frelse og min Gud!
O my God, my soul has been troubled within me: therefore will I remember you from the land of Jordan, and of the Ermonites, from the little hill.
7 Nedbøjet er min Sjæl, derfor mindes jeg dig fra Jordans og Hermontindernes Land, fra Miz'ars Bjerg.
Deep calls to deep at the voice of your cataracts: all your billows and your waves have gone over me.
8 Dyb raaber til Dyb ved dine Vandfalds Brusen, alle dine Brændinger og Bølger skyller hen over mig.
By day the Lord will command his mercy, and manifest [it] by night: with me [is] prayer to the God of my life.
9 Sin Miskundhed sender HERREN om Dagen, hans Sang er hos mig om Natten, en Bøn til mit Livs Gud.
I will say to God, You are my helper; why have you forgotten me? therefore do I go sad of countenance, while the enemy oppresses [me]?
10 Jeg siger til Gud, min Klippe: Hvorfor har du glemt mig, hvorfor skal jeg vandre sorgfuld, trængt af Fjender?
While my bones were breaking, they that afflicted me reproached me; while they said to me daily, Where is your God?
11 Det er, som knustes mine Ben, naar Fjenderne haaner mig, naar de stadig spørger mig: »Hvor er din Gud?« Hvorfor er du nedbøjet, Sjæl, hvi bruser du i mig? Bi efter Gud, thi end skal jeg takke ham, mit Aasyns Frelse og min Gud!
Therefore are you very sad, O my soul? and therefore do you trouble me? hope in God; for I will give thanks to him; [he is] the health of my countenance, and my God.
