Salme 21

1 (Til sangmesteren. En salme af David.) HERRE, Kongen er glad ved din Vælde, hvor frydes han højlig over din Frelse!

“For the leader of the music. A psalm of David.” The king rejoiceth in thy strength, O LORD! Yea, he doth greatly exult in thy protection.

2 Hvad hans Hjerte ønskede, gav du ham, du afslog ikke hans Læbers Bøn. (Sela)

Thou hast given him his heart's desire, And hast not denied him the request of his lips. (Pause)

3 Du kom ham i Møde med rig Velsignelse, satte en Krone af Guld på hans Hoved.

Yea, thou hast met him with rich blessings, Thou hast placed a crown of pure gold upon his head.

4 Han bad dig om Liv, og du gav ham det, en Række af Dage uden Ende.

He asked life of thee; thou gavest it him; Even long life, enduring for ever.

5 Stor er hans Glans ved din Frelse, Højhed og Hæder lægger du på ham.

Great is his glory through thine aid; Honor and majesty hast thou laid upon him.

6 Ja, evig Velsignelse gav du ham, med Fryd for dit Åsyn glæded du ham.

Thou hast made him blessed for evermore; Thou hast made him glad with the joy of thy countenance.

7 Thi Kongen stoler på HERREN, ved den Højestes Nåde rokkes han ikke.

For the king trusteth in the LORD; And through the goodness of the Most High he shall never fall.

8 Til alle dine Fjender når din Hånd, din højre når dine Avindsmænd.

Thy hand shall overtake all thine enemies; Thy right hand shall overtake them that hate thee.

9 Du gør dem til et luende Bål, når du viser dig; HERREN sluger dem i sin Vrede. Ild fortærer dem.

Thou wilt make them like a burning oven in the time of thine anger; Jehovah shall swallow them up in his wrath, And the fire shall devour them.

10 Du rydder bort deres Frugt af Jorden, deres Sæd blandt Menneskens Børn.

Their offspring shalt thou destroy from the earth, And their posterity from the sons of men.

11 Thi de søger at volde dig ondt, spinder Rænker, men evner intet;

For they spread a net of mischief against thee; They devised plots against thee, but they did not prevail.

12 thi du slår dem på Flugt, med din Bue sigter du mod deres Ansigt.

Therefore thou wilt cause them to turn their backs; Thou wilt make ready thine arrows upon the strings against them.

13 HERRE, stå op i din Vælde, med Sang og med Spil vil vi prise dit Storværk!

Exalt thyself, O LORD! by thy strength! So will we sing, and praise thy mighty deeds.