Psalms 11

1 In the LORD put I my trust: how say all of you to my soul, Flee as a bird to your mountain?

Til Sangmesteren; af David. Jeg haaber paa Herren; hvorledes kunne I da sige til min Sjæl: Fly til eders Bjerg som en Fugl?

2 For, lo, the wicked bend their bow, they make ready their arrow upon the string, that they may privately shoot at the upright in heart.

Thi se, de ugudelige spænde Buen, de berede deres Pil paa Strengen, at skyde i Mørke paa de oprigtige af Hjertet.

3 If the foundations be destroyed, what can the righteous do?

Thi Grundvoldene nedbrydes; hvad kunde en retfærdig udrette?

4 The LORD is in his holy temple, the LORD's throne is in heaven: his eyes behold, his eyelids try, the children of men.

Herren er i sit hellige Tempel, Herrens Trone er i Himmelen; hans Øjne se, hans Øjenlaage prøve Menneskens Børn.

5 The LORD tries the righteous: but the wicked and him that loves violence his soul hates.

Herren prøver en retfærdig; men den ugudelige og den, som elsker Vold, dem hader hans Sjæl.

6 Upon the wicked he shall rain snares, fire and brimstone, and an horrible tempest: this shall be the portion of their cup.

Han skal lade regne Snarer over de ugudelige; Ild og Svovl og et vældigt Stormvejr skal blive deres Bægers Del.

7 For the righteous LORD loves righteousness; his countenance does behold the upright.

Thi Herren er retfærdig, elsker Retfærdighed; hans Ansigt skuer en oprigtig.