Salme 11

1 (Til sangmesteren. Af David.) Jeg tager min Tilflugt til HERREN! Hvor kan I sige til min Sjæl: "Fly som en Fugl til Bjergene!

In the LORD put I my trust: how say all of you to my soul, Flee as a bird to your mountain?

2 Thi se, de gudløse spænder Buen, lægger Pilen til Rette på Strengen for i Mørke at ramme de oprigtige af Hjertet.

For, lo, the wicked bend their bow, they make ready their arrow upon the string, that they may privately shoot at the upright in heart.

3 Når selv Grundpillerne styrter, hvad gør den retfærdige da?"

If the foundations be destroyed, what can the righteous do?

4 HERREN er i sin hellige Hal, i Himlen er HERRENs Trone; på Jorderig skuer hans Øjne ned, hans Blik ransager Menneskens Børn;

The LORD is in his holy temple, the LORD's throne is in heaven: his eyes behold, his eyelids try, the children of men.

5 retfærdige og gudløse ransager HERREN; dem, der elsker Uret, hader hans Sjæl;

The LORD tries the righteous: but the wicked and him that loves violence his soul hates.

6 over gudløse sender han Regn af Gløder og Svovl, et Stormvejr er deres tilmålte Bæger.

Upon the wicked he shall rain snares, fire and brimstone, and an horrible tempest: this shall be the portion of their cup.

7 Thi retfærdig er HERREN, han elsker at øve Retfærd, de oprigtige skuer hans Åsyn!

For the righteous LORD loves righteousness; his countenance does behold the upright.