Psalms 39
1 I said, I will take heed to my ways, that I sin not with my tongue: I will keep my mouth with a bridle, while the wicked is before me.
Til Sangmesteren. Til Jedutun. En Salme af David.
2 I was dumb with silence, I held my peace, even from good; and my sorrow was stirred.
Jeg sagde: »Mine Veje vil jeg vogte paa, saa jeg ikke synder med Tungen; min Mund vil jeg holde i Tømme, saa længe den gudløse er mig nær!«
3 My heart was hot within me, while I was musing the fire burned: then spoke I with my tongue,
Jeg var stum og tavs, jeg tav for at undgaa tomme Ord, men min Smerte naged,
4 LORD, make me to know my end, and the measure of my days, what it is: that I may know how frail I am.
mit Hjerte brændte i Brystet, Ild lued op, mens jeg grunded; da talte jeg med min Tunge.
5 Behold, you have made my days as an handbreadth; and my age is as nothing before you: truly every man at his best state is altogether vanity. (Selah)
Lær mig, HERRE, at kende mit Endeligt, det Maal af Dage, jeg har, lad mig kende, hvor snart jeg skal bort!
6 Surely every man walks in a vain show: surely they are disquieted in vain: he heaps up riches, and knows not who shall gather them.
Se, i Haandsbredder maalte du mine Dage ud, mit Liv er som intet for dig, som et Aandepust staar hvert Menneske der. (Sela)
7 And now, Lord, what wait I for? my hope is in you.
Kun som en Skygge er Menneskets Vandring, kun Tomhed er deres Travlhed; de samler og ved ej, hvem der faar det.
8 Deliver me from all my transgressions: make me not the reproach of the foolish.
Hvad bier jeg, Herre, da efter? Mit Haab staar ene til dig.
9 I was dumb, I opened not my mouth; because you did it.
Fri mig for al min Synd, gør mig ikke til Spot for Daarer!
10 Remove your stroke away from me: I am consumed by the blow of your hand.
Jeg tier og aabner ikke min Mund, du voldte det jo.
11 When you with rebukes do correct man for iniquity, you make his beauty to consume away like a moth: surely every man is vanity. (Selah)
Borttag din Plage fra mig, under din vældige Haand gaar jeg til.
12 Hear my prayer, O LORD, and give ear to my cry; hold not your peace at my tears: for I am a stranger with you, and a sojourner, as all my fathers were.
Naar du tugter en Mand med Straf for hans Brøde, smuldrer du hans Herlighed hen som Møl; kun et Aandepust er hvert Menneske. (Sela)
13 O spare me, that I may recover strength, before I go hence, and be no more.
Hør, o HERRE, min Bøn og lyt til mit Skrig, til mine Taarer tie du ej! Thi en fremmed er jeg hos dig, en Gæst som alle mine Fædre. Se bort fra mig, saa jeg kvæges, før jeg gaar bort og ej mer er til!
