Salme 65
1 (Til sangmesteren. En salme af David. En sang.) Lovsang tilkommer dig på Zion, o Gud, dig indfrier man Løfter, du, som hører Bønner;
To the Chief Musician. A Melody of David—a song. Thine, are silence [and] praise, O God, in Zion, —And, to thee, shall be paid the vow.
2 alt Kød kommer til dig, når Brøden tynger.
Thou hearer of prayer! Unto thee, shall all flesh come.
3 Vore Overtrædelser blev os for svare, du tilgiver dem.
Iniquitous things, have been too strong for me, As for our transgressions, wilt, thou, by propitiation remove them.
4 Salig den, du udvælger, lader bo i dine Forgårde! Vi mættes af dit Huses Rigdom, dit Tempels Hellighed.
How happy the man thou shalt choose and bring near! He shall abide in thy courts, —We shall be satisfied with, The blessing of thy house, The holiness of thy temple.
5 Du svarer os underfuldt i Retfærd, vor Frelses Gud, du Tilflugt for den vide Jord, for fjerne Strande,
By things reverend in righteousness, wilt thou answer us, O God of our salvation, The confidence of all the ends of the earth, And of the sea far away;
6 du, som grundfæster Bjerge med Vælde, omgjorde med Kraft,
Who setteth fast the mountains by his strength, Being girded with might;
7 du, som dæmper Havenes Brusen, deres Bølgers Brusen og Folkefærds Larm,
Who stilleth, The noise of the seas, The noise of their rolling waves, and The tumult of races of men?
8 så Folk ved Verdens Ende gruer for dine Tegn; hvor Morgen og Aften oprinder, bringer du Jubel.
Yea the dwellers in the uttermost parts have feared at thy tokens, The goings forth of morning and evening, thou causest to shout for joy.
9 Du så til Landet, vanded det, gjorde det såre rigt, Guds Bæk er fuld af Vand, du bereder dets Korn,
Thou hast visited the earth, and made it abound, Abundantly, dost thou enrich it—The channel of God, is full of waters, Thou preparest their corn, Yea, thus, dost thou prepare it:
10 du vander dets Furer, jævner knoldene, bløder det med Regn, velsigner dets Sæd.
The ridges thereof, drenching, Settling the furrows thereof, With myriad drops, dost thou soften it, The sprouting thereof, doth thou bless.
11 Med din Herlighed kroner du Året, dine Vognspor flyder af Fedme;
Thou hast set a crown upon thy year of bounty, And, thy tracks, drop fatness;
12 de øde Græsgange flyder, med Jubel omgjordes Højene;
Fruitful are the pastures of the wilderness, And, with exultation, the hills do gird themselves.
13 Engene klædes med Får, Dalene hylles i Korn, i Jubel bryder de ud og synger!
Clothed are the pastures with flocks, The valleys also, cover themselves with corn, They shout for joy, yea they sing.
