< Salme 65 >
1 Til Sangmesteren. En Salme af David. En Sang.
TO THE OVERSEER. A PSALM OF DAVID. A SONG. To You, silence [and] praise, O God, in Zion, And to You a vow is completed.
2 Lovsang tilkommer dig paa Zion, o Gud, dig indfrier man Løfter, du, som hører Bønner;
Hearer of prayer, all flesh comes to You.
3 alt Kød kommer til dig, naar Brøden tynger.
Matters of iniquities were mightier than I, Our transgressions—You cover them.
4 Vore Overtrædelser blev os for svare, du tilgiver dem.
O the blessedness of [him whom] You choose, And draw near, he inhabits Your courts, We are satisfied with the goodness of Your house, Your holy temple.
5 Salig den, du udvælger, lader bo i dine Forgaarde! Vi mættes af dit Huses Rigdom, dit Tempels Hellighed.
By fearful things in righteousness You answer us, O God of our salvation, The confidence of all far off The ends of the earth and sea.
6 Du svarer os underfuldt i Retfærd, vor Frelses Gud, du Tilflugt for den vide Jord, for fjerne Strande,
Establishing mountains by His power, He has been girded with might,
7 du, som grundfæster Bjerge med Vælde, omgjordet med Kraft,
Restraining the noise of seas, the noise of their billows, And the multitude of the peoples.
8 du, som dæmper Havenes Brusen, deres Bølgers Brusen og Folkefærds Larm,
And the inhabitants of the uttermost parts Are afraid from Your signs, You cause the outgoings of morning and evening to sing.
9 saa Folk ved Verdens Ende gruer for dine Tegn; hvor Morgen og Aften oprinder, bringer du Jubel.
You have inspected the earth, and water it, You make it very rich, the stream of God [is] full of water, You prepare their grain, When thus You prepare it,
10 Du saa til Landet, vanded det, gjorde det saare rigt, Guds Bæk er fuld af Vand, du bereder dets Korn,
Its ridges have been filled, Its furrow has been deepened, You soften it with showers, Its springing up You bless.
11 du vander dets Furer, jævner knoldene, bløder det med Regn, velsigner dets Sæd.
You have crowned the year of Your goodness, And Your paths drop fatness.
12 Med din Herlighed kroner du Aaret, dine Vognspor flyder af Fedme;
The pastures of a wilderness drop, And You gird the hills with joy.
13 de øde Græsgange flyder, med Jubel omgjordes Højene; Engene klædes med Faar, Dalene hylles i Korn, i Jubel bryder de ud og synger!
The meadows are clothed with the flock, And valleys are covered with grain, They shout—indeed, they sing!