Psalms 39

1 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.

For Jeduthun, the music director. A psalm of David. I told myself, “I will be careful in what I do, and not sin in what I say. I will keep my mouth shut when the wicked are around.”

2 I made no sound, I said no word, even of good; and I was moved with sorrow.

So I was completely silent—I didn't even say anything good. But the pain inside only got worse.

3 My heart was burning in my breast; while I was deep in thought the fire was lighted; then I said with my tongue,

My mind burned as if on fire; I had to say what I was thinking:

4 Lord, give me knowledge of my end, and of the measure of my days, so that I may see how feeble I am.

Lord, remind me. How short is my life? How long do I have? Remind me how quickly my life will pass.

5 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)

Just look at the tiny amount of days you have given me! In your eyes my whole lifetime is like nothing. Our lives here are just a breath… (Selah)

6 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.

Human beings are just shadows walking around. They pointlessly rush through life, trying to pile up possessions without knowing who will get them.

7 And now, Lord, what am I waiting for? my hope is in you.

So Lord, what am I looking for? I put my hope in you.

8 Make me free from all my sins; do not let me be shamed by the man of evil behaviour.

Save me from my rebellion. Don't let me be mocked by fools.

9 I was quiet, and kept my mouth shut; because you had done it.

I will stay quiet, I won't say a word, for it's you who has done this to me.

10 No longer let your hand be hard on me; I am wasted by the blows of your hand.

Please stop hitting me! Your beating has worn me out!

11 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)

When you discipline us, reprimanding us for our sins, it's like a moth eating up what is precious to us. All of us are just a breath… (Selah)

12 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.

Please hear my prayer, Lord! Listen to my cry for help! Don't be deaf to my weeping. Please treat me as your guest, passing through, just like my forefathers.

13 Let your wrath be turned away from me, so that I may be comforted, before I go away from here, and become nothing.

Please leave me alone so I can be cheerful again, before I am dead and gone.