< Psalms 88 >
1 A song of a Psalm for the sons of Core for the end, upon Maeleth for responsive [strains], of instruction for Aeman the Israelite. O Lord God of my salvation, I have cried by day and in the night before thee.
En Sang. En Salme af Koras Sønner. Til Sangmesteren. Al-mahalat-leannot. En Maskil af Ezraiten Heman. HERRE min Gud, jeg raaber om Dagen, om Natten naar mit Skrig til dig;
2 Let my prayer come in before thee; incline thine ear to my supplication, O Lord.
lad min Bøn komme frem for dit Aasyn, til mit Klageraab laane du Øre!
3 For my soul is filled with troubles, and my life has drawn nigh to Hades. (Sheol )
Thi min Sjæl er mæt af Lidelser, mit Liv er Dødsriget nær, (Sheol )
4 I have been reckoned with them that go down to the pit; I became as a man without help;
jeg regnes blandt dem, der sank i Graven, er blevet som den, det er ude med,
5 free among the dead, as the slain ones cast out, who sleep in the tomb; whom thou rememberest no more; and they are rejected from thy hand.
kastet hen imellem de døde, blandt faldne, der hviler i Graven, hvem du ej mindes mere, thi fra din Haand er de revet.
6 They laid me in the lowest pit, in dark [places], and in the shadow of death.
Du har lagt mig i den underste Grube, paa det mørke, det dybe Sted;
7 Thy wrath has pressed heavily upon me, and thou hast brought upon me all thy billows. (Pause)
tungt hviler din Vrede paa mig, alle dine Brændinger lod du gaa over mig. (Sela)
8 Thou hast removed my acquaintance far from me; they have made me an abomination to themselves; I have been delivered up, and have not gone forth.
Du har fjernet mine Frænder fra mig, gjort mig vederstyggelig for dem; jeg er fængslet, kan ikke gaa ud,
9 Mine eyes are dimmed from poverty; but I cried to thee, O Lord, all the day; I spread forth my hands to thee.
mit Øje er sløvt af Vaande. Hver Dag, HERRE, raaber jeg til dig og rækker mine Hænder imod dig.
10 Wilt thou work wonders for the dead? or shall physicians raise [them] up, that they shall praise thee?
Gør du Undere for de døde, staar Skyggerne op og takker dig? (Sela)
11 Shall any one declare thy mercy in the tomb? and thy truth in destruction?
Tales der om din Naade i Graven, i Afgrunden om din Trofasthed?
12 Shall thy wonders be known in darkness? and thy righteousness in a forgotten land?
Er dit Under kendt i Mørket, din Retfærd i Glemselens Land?
13 But I cried to thee, O Lord; and in the morning shall my prayer prevent thee.
Men jeg, o HERRE, jeg raaber til dig, om Morgenen kommer min Bøn dig i Møde.
14 Wherefore, O Lord, dost thou reject my prayer, [and] turn thy face away from me?
Hvorfor forstøder du, HERRE, min Sjæl og skjuler dit Aasyn for mig?
15 I am poor and in troubles from my youth; and having been exalted, I was brought low and into despair.
Elendig er jeg og Døden nær, dine Rædsler har omgivet mig fra min Ungdom;
16 Thy wrath has passed over me; and thy terrors have greatly disquieted me.
din Vredes Luer gaar over mig, dine Rædsler har lagt mig øde,
17 They compassed me like water; all the day they beset me together.
som Vand er de om mig Dagen lang, til Hobe slutter de Kreds om mig;
18 Thou hast put far from me [every] friend, and mine acquaintances because of [my] wretchedness.
Ven og Frænde fjerned du fra mig, holdt mine Kendinge borte.