Salme 79
1 En Salme af Asaf. Hedninger er trængt ind i din arvelod, Gud, de har besmittet dit hellige Tempel og gjort Jerusalem til en Stenhob;
A Psalm of Asaph. The nations, O God, have invaded Your inheritance; they have defiled Your holy temple and reduced Jerusalem to rubble.
2 de har givet Himlens Fugle dine Tjeneres Lig til Æde, Jordens vilde Dyr dine frommes Kød;
They have given the corpses of Your servants as food to the birds of the air, the flesh of Your saints to the beasts of the earth.
3 deres Blod har de udøst som Vand omkring Jerusalem, ingen jorder dem;
They have poured out their blood like water all around Jerusalem, and there is no one to bury the dead.
4 vore Naboer er vi til Haan, vore Grander til Spot og Spe.
We have become a reproach to our neighbors, a scorn and derision to those around us.
5 Hvor længe vredes du, HERRE — for evigt? hvor længe skal din Nidkærhed lue som Ild?
How long, O LORD? Will You be angry forever? Will Your jealousy burn like fire?
6 Udøs din Vrede paa Folk, der ikke kender dig, paa Riger, som ikke paakalder dit Navn;
Pour out Your wrath on the nations that do not acknowledge You, on the kingdoms that refuse to call on Your name,
7 thi de har opædt Jakob og lagt hans Bolig øde.
for they have devoured Jacob and devastated his homeland.
8 Tilregn os ikke Fædrenes Brøde, lad din Barmhjertighed komme os snarlig i Møde, thi vi er saare ringe,
Do not hold past sins against us; let Your compassion come quickly, for we are brought low.
9 Hjælp os, vor Frelses Gud, for dit Navns Æres Skyld, fri os, forlad vore Synder for dit Navns Skyld!
Help us, O God of our salvation, for the glory of Your name; deliver us and atone for our sins, for the sake of Your name.
10 Hvorfor skal Hedninger sige: »Hvor er deres Gud?« Lad dine Tjeneres udgydte Blod blive hævnet paa Hedningerne for vore Øjne!
Why should the nations ask, “Where is their God?” Before our eyes, make known among the nations Your vengeance for the bloodshed of Your servants.
11 Lad de fangnes Suk naa hen for dit Aasyn, udløs Dødens Børn efter din Arms Vælde,
May the groans of the captives reach You; by the strength of Your arm preserve those condemned to death.
12 lad syvfold Gengæld ramme vore Naboer for Haanen, de viser dig, Herre!
Pay back into the laps of our neighbors sevenfold the reproach they hurled at You, O Lord.
13 Men vi, dit Folk og den Hjord, du røgter, vi vil evindelig takke dig, forkynde din Pris fra Slægt til Slægt!
Then we Your people, the sheep of Your pasture, will thank You forever; from generation to generation we will declare Your praise.
