< Psalms 144 >

1 A Psalme of David. Blessed be the Lord my strength, which teacheth mine hands to fight, and my fingers to battell.
Af David. Lovet være HERREN, min Klippe, som oplærer mine hænder til Strid, mine Fingre til Krig,
2 He is my goodnes and my fortresse, my towre and my deliuerer, my shield, and in him I trust, which subdueth my people vnder me.
min Miskundhed og min Fæstning, min Klippeborg, min Frelser, mit Skjold og den, jeg lider paa, som underlægger mig Folkeslag!
3 Lord, what is man that thou regardest him! or the sonne of man that thou thinkest vpon him!
HERRE, hvad er et Menneske, at du kendes ved det, et Menneskebarn, at du agter paa ham?
4 Man is like to vanitie: his dayes are like a shadow, that vanisheth.
Mennesket er som et Aandepust, dets Dage som svindende Skygge.
5 Bow thine heauens, O Lord, and come downe: touch the mountaines and they shall smoke.
HERRE, sænk din Himmel, stig ned og rør ved Bjergene, saa at de ryger;
6 Cast forth the lightning and scatter them: shoote out thine arrowes, and consume them.
slyng Lynene ud og adsplit Fjenderne, send dine Pile og indjag dem Rædsel;
7 Send thine hand from aboue: deliuer me, and take me out of the great waters, and from the hand of strangers,
udræk din Haand fra det høje, fri og frels mig fra store Vande,
8 Whose mouth talketh vanitie, and their right hand is a right hand of falsehood.
fra fremmedes Haand, de, hvis Mund taler Løgn, hvis højre er Løgnehaand.
9 I wil sing a new song vnto thee, O God, and sing vnto thee vpon a viole, and an instrument of ten strings.
Gud, jeg vil synge dig en ny Sang, lege for dig paa tistrenget Harpe,
10 It is he that giueth deliuerance vnto Kings, and rescueth Dauid his seruant from the hurtfull sworde.
du, som giver Konger Sejr og udfrier David, din Tjener.
11 Rescue me, and deliuer me from the hand of strangers, whose mouth talketh vanitie, and their right hand is a right hand of falshood:
Fri mig fra det onde Sværd, frels mig fra fremmedes Haand, de, hvis Mund taler Løgn, hvis højre er Løgnehaand.
12 That our sonnes may be as the plantes growing vp in their youth, and our daughters as the corner stones, grauen after the similitude of a palace:
I Ungdommen er vore Sønner som højvoksne Planter, vore Døtre er som Søjler, udhugget i Tempelstil;
13 That our corners may be full, and abounding with diuers sorts, and that our sheepe may bring forth thousands and ten thousand in our streetes:
vore Forraadskamre er fulde, de yder Forraad paa Forraad, vore Hjorde føder Tusinder, Titusinder paa vore Marker,
14 That our oxen may be strong to labour: that there be none inuasion, nor going out, nor no crying in our streetes.
fede er vore Okser; intet Murbrud, ingen Udvandring, ingen Skrigen paa Torvene.
15 Blessed are the people, that be so, yea, blessed are the people, whose God is the Lord.
Saligt det Folk, der er saaledes stedt, saligt det Folk, hvis Gud er HERREN!

< Psalms 144 >