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!"
I said, I will take heed to my ways, that I sin not with my tongue: I will keep my mouth with a bridle, while the wicked is before me.
2 Jeg var stum og tavs, jeg tav for at undgå tomme Ord, men min Smerte naged,
I was dumb with silence, I held my peace, even from good; and my sorrow was stirred.
3 mit Hjerte brændte i Brystet, Ild lued op, mens jeg grunded; da talte jeg med min Tunge.
My heart was hot within me, while I was musing the fire burned: then spoke I 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, make me to know my end, and the measure of my days, what it is: that I may know how frail 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)
Behold, you have made my days as an handbreadth; and my age is as nothing before you: truly every man at his best state is altogether vanity. (Selah)
6 Kun som en Skygge er Menneskets Vandring, kun Tomhed er deres Travlhed; de samler og ved ej, hvem der får det.
Surely every man walks in a vain show: surely they are disquieted in vain: he heaps up riches, and knows not who shall gather them.
7 Hvad bier jeg, Herre, da efter? Mit Håb står ene til dig.
And now, Lord, what wait I for? my hope is in you.
8 Fri mig for al min Synd, gør mig ikke til Spot for Dårer!
Deliver me from all my transgressions: make me not the reproach of the foolish.
9 Jeg tier og åbner ikke min Mund, du voldte det jo.
I was dumb, I opened not my mouth; because you did it.
10 Borttag din Plage fra mig, under din vældige Hånd går jeg til.
Remove your stroke away from me: I am consumed by the blow 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)
When you with rebukes do correct man for iniquity, you make his beauty to consume away like a moth: surely every man is vanity. (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.
Hear my prayer, O LORD, and give ear to my cry; hold not your peace at my tears: for I am a stranger with you, and a sojourner, as all my fathers were.
13 Se bort fra mig, så jeg kvæges, før jeg går bort og ej mer er til!
O spare me, that I may recover strength, before I go hence, and be no more.
