Salme 65
1 Til Sangmesteren. En Salme af David. En Sang.
To the Overseer. — A Psalm of David. A Song. To Thee, silence — praise, O God, [is] in Zion, And to Thee is a vow completed.
2 Lovsang tilkommer dig paa Zion, o Gud, dig indfrier man Løfter, du, som hører Bønner;
Hearer of prayer, to Thee all flesh cometh.
3 alt Kød kommer til dig, naar Brøden tynger.
Matters of iniquities were mightier than I, Our transgressions — Thou dost cover them.
4 Vore Overtrædelser blev os for svare, du tilgiver dem.
O the happiness of [him whom] Thou choosest, And drawest near, he inhabiteth Thy courts, We are satisfied with the goodness of Thy house, Thy 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 Thou answerest us, O God of our salvation, The confidence of all far off ends of 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 hath 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 From Thy signs are afraid, The outgoings of morning and evening Thou causest to sing.
9 saa Folk ved Verdens Ende gruer for dine Tegn; hvor Morgen og Aften oprinder, bringer du Jubel.
Thou hast inspected the earth, and waterest it, Thou makest it very rich, the rivulet of God [is] full of water, Thou preparest their corn, When thus Thou dost 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, Deepened hath been its furrow, With showers Thou dost soften it, Its springing up Thou blessest.
11 du vander dets Furer, jævner knoldene, bløder det med Regn, velsigner dets Sæd.
Thou hast crowned the year of Thy goodness, And Thy paths drop fatness.
12 Med din Herlighed kroner du Aaret, dine Vognspor flyder af Fedme;
Drop do the pastures of a wilderness, And joy of the heights Thou girdest on.
13 de øde Græsgange flyder, med Jubel omgjordes Højene; Engene klædes med Faar, Dalene hylles i Korn, i Jubel bryder de ud og synger!
Clothed have lambs the flock, And valleys are covered with corn, They shout — yea, they sing!
