Salme 39
1 (Til sangmesteren. Til Jedutun. En salme af David.) Jeg sagde: "Mine Veje vil jeg vogte på, så jeg ikke synder med Tungen; min Mund vil jeg holde i Tømme, så længe den gudløse er mig nær!"
To the chief music-maker. Of Jeduthun. A Psalm. Of David. I said, I will give attention to my ways, so that my tongue may do no wrong; I will keep my mouth under control, while the sinner is before me.
2 Jeg var stum og tavs, jeg tav for at undgå tomme Ord, men min Smerte naged,
I made no sound, I said no word, even of good; and I was moved with sorrow.
3 mit Hjerte brændte i Brystet, Ild lued op, mens jeg grunded; da talte jeg med min Tunge.
My heart was burning in my breast; while I was deep in thought the fire was lighted; then I said with my tongue,
4 Lær mig, HERRE, at kende mit Endeligt, det Mål af Dage, jeg har, lad mig kende, hvor snart jeg skal bort!
Lord, give me knowledge of my end, and of the measure of my days, so that I may see how feeble I am.
5 Se, i Håndsbredder målte du mine Dage ud, mit Liv er som intet for dig, som et Åndepust står hvert Menneske der. (Sela)
You have made my days no longer than a hand's measure; and my years are nothing in your eyes; truly, every man is but a breath. (Selah)
6 Kun som en Skygge er Menneskets Vandring, kun Tomhed er deres Travlhed; de samler og ved ej, hvem der får det.
Truly, every man goes on his way like an image; he is troubled for no purpose: he makes a great store of wealth, and has no knowledge of who will get it.
7 Hvad bier jeg, Herre, da efter? Mit Håb står ene til dig.
And now, Lord, what am I waiting for? my hope is in you.
8 Fri mig for al min Synd, gør mig ikke til Spot for Dårer!
Make me free from all my sins; do not let me be shamed by the man of evil behaviour.
9 Jeg tier og åbner ikke min Mund, du voldte det jo.
I was quiet, and kept my mouth shut; because you had done it.
10 Borttag din Plage fra mig, under din vældige Hånd går jeg til.
No longer let your hand be hard on me; I am wasted by the blows of your hand.
11 Når du tugter en Mand med Straf for hans Brøde, smuldrer du hans Herlighed hen som Møl; kun et Åndepust er hvert Menneske. (Sela)
By the weight of your wrath against man's sin, the glory of his form is wasted away; truly every man is but a breath. (Selah)
12 Hør, o HERRE, min Bøn og lyt til mit Skrig, til mine Tårer tie du ej! Thi en fremmed er jeg hos dig, en Gæst som alle mine Fædre.
Let my prayer come to your ears, O Lord, and give attention to my cry, make an answer to my weeping: for my time here is short before you, and in a little time I will be gone, like all my fathers.
13 Se bort fra mig, så jeg kvæges, før jeg går bort og ej mer er til!
Let your wrath be turned away from me, so that I may be comforted, before I go away from here, and become nothing.
