Psalms 129

1 A song for pilgrims going up to Jerusalem. Many enemies have attacked from the time I was young. Let everyone in Israel say:

Sang til Festrejserne.

2 Many enemies have attacked from the time I was young, but they never defeated me.

De trængte mig haardt fra min Ungdom — saa sige Israel — de trængte mig haardt fra min Ungdom, men kued mig ikke.

3 They beat me on my back, leaving long furrows as if it had been ploughed by a farmer.

Plovmænd pløjed min Ryg, trak lange Furer;

4 But the Lord does what is right: he has cut me free from the ropes of the wicked.

retfærdig er HERREN, han overskar de gudløses Reb.

5 May everyone who hates Zion be driven back in humiliating defeat.

Alle, som hader Zion, skal vige med Skam,

6 May they be like grass that grows on a roof that withers before it can be harvested,

blive som Græs paa Tage, der visner, førend det skyder Straa,

7 There's not enough even for a reaper to hold, not enough even for the binder to bind.

og ikke fylder Høstkarlens Haand og Opbinderens Favn;

8 May passers-by not say to them, “The blessing of the Lord be on you; we bless you in the name of the Lord.”

Folk, som gaar forbi, siger ikke: »HERRENS Velsignelse over eder! Vi velsigner eder i HERRENS Navn!«