Psalms 144
1 “By David.” Blessed be the Lord my Rock, who exerciseth my hands for the battle, my fingers for the war:
Dawut yazƣan küy: — Ⱪollirimƣa jǝng ⱪilixni, Barmaⱪlirimƣa uruxni ɵgitidiƣan, Mening Ⱪoram Texim Pǝrwǝrdigarƣa tǝxǝkkür-mǝdⱨiyǝ ⱪayturulsun!
2 My kindness, and my strong-hold; my high tower, and my deliverer; my shield, and he in whom I trust; who subdueth my people under me.
Mening ɵzgǝrmǝs xǝpⱪitim wǝ mening ⱪorƣinim, Mening egiz munarim wǝ nijatkarim, Mening ⱪalⱪinim wǝ tayanƣinim, mǝn Uningdin ⱨimayǝ tapimǝn; U Ɵz hǝlⱪimni ⱪol astimda boysundurƣuqidur!
3 Lord, what is man, that thou takest cognizance of him: the son of a mortal, that thou regardest him!
I Pǝrwǝrdigar, Sǝn uningdin hǝwǝr alidikǝnsǝn, adǝm degǝn zadi nemǝ? Uning toƣruluⱪ oylaydikǝnsǝn, insan balisi degǝn nemǝ?
4 Man is like the breath: his days are like a passing shadow.
Adǝm bolsa bir nǝpǝsturla, halas; Uning künliri ɵtüp ketiwatⱪan bir kɵlǝnggidur, halas.
5 O Lord, bend thy heavens, and come down: touch the mountains, that they may smoke.
I Pǝrwǝrdigar, asmanlarni egildürüp qüxkǝysǝn; Taƣlarƣa tegip ulardin is-tütǝk qiⱪarƣaysǝn;
6 Cast forth lightning, and scatter them: send out thy arrows, and confound them.
Qaⱪmaⱪlarni qaⱪⱪuzup ularni tarⱪitiwǝtkǝysǝn; Oⱪliringni etip ularni ⱪiyⱪas-sürǝngǝ salƣaysǝn;
7 Stretch out thy hands from above; rid me, and deliver me out of great waters, from the hand of the children of the stranger.
Yuⱪiridin ⱪolliringni uzitip, Meni azad ⱪilƣaysǝn; Meni uluƣ sulardin, Yaⱪa yurttikilǝrning qanggilidin qiⱪarƣaysǝn.
8 Whose mouth speaketh vanity, and whose right hand is the right hand of falsehood.
Ularning aƣzi ⱪuruⱪ gǝp sɵzlǝydu, Ong ⱪoli aldamqi ⱪoldur.
9 O God, a new song will I sing unto thee: upon the ten-stringed psaltery will I sing praises unto thee.
I Huda, mǝn Sanga atap yengi nahxa eytimǝn; Ontarƣa tǝngkǝx bolup Sanga küylǝrni eytimǝn.
10 [Thou art he] that giveth victory unto kings: who riddeth David his servant from the evil-bringing sword.
Sǝn padixaⱨlarƣa nijatliⱪ-ƣǝlibǝ beƣixlaysǝn; Ⱪulung Dawutni ǝjǝllik ⱪiliqtin ⱪutuldurisǝn.
11 Rid me, and deliver me from the hand of the children of the stranger, whose mouth speaketh vanity, and whose right hand is the right hand of falsehood.
Meni ⱪutuldurƣaysǝn, yat yurttikilǝrning ⱪolidin azad ⱪilƣaysǝn; Ularning aƣzi ⱪuruⱪ gǝp sɵzlǝydu, Ong ⱪoli aldamqi ⱪoldur.
12 So that our sons may be like plants, grown up in their youth: our daughters, like corner-pillars, sculptured in the model of a palace.
Xundaⱪ ⱪilip oƣullirimiz yaxliⱪida puhta yetilgǝn kɵqǝtlǝrgǝ ohxaydu, Ⱪizlirimiz ordiqǝ nǝⱪixlǝngǝn tüwrüklǝrdǝk bolidu;
13 May our garners be full, furnishing all manner of store: our sheep bringing forth thousands and ten thousands in our open pastures.
Axliⱪ ambarlirimiz toldurulup, Türlük-türlük ozuⱪlar bilǝn tǝminlǝydiƣan, Ⱪoylirimiz otlaⱪlirimizda minglap, tümǝnlǝp ⱪozilaydiƣan;
14 May our oxen be strong to labor: may there be no breach, nor migration, nor loud complaint in our streets.
Kalilirimiz boƣaz bolidiƣan; Ⱨeqkim besip kirmǝydiƣan, ⱨeqkim [jǝnggǝ] qiⱪmaydiƣan; Koqilirimizda ⱨeq jedǝl-ƣowƣa bolmaydiƣan;
15 Happy the people, that fare thus: happy the people, whose God is the Lord.
Əⱨwali xundaⱪ bolƣan hǝlⱪ nemidegǝn bǝhtliktur! Hudasi Pǝrwǝrdigar bolƣan hǝlⱪ bǝhtliktur!
