Psalms 65
1 To the Chief Musician. A Melody of David—a song. Thine, are silence [and] praise, O God, in Zion, —And, to thee, shall be paid the vow.
Wɔde ma dwonkyerɛfo. Dawid dwom. Yɛn Nyankopɔn, ayeyi retwɛn wo wɔ Sion, na yebedi yɛn bɔ a yɛahyɛ wo no so.
2 Thou hearer of prayer! Unto thee, shall all flesh come.
Wo a woyɛ mpaebɔ tiefo, wo nkyɛn na nnipa nyinaa bɛba.
3 Iniquitous things, have been too strong for me, As for our transgressions, wilt, thou, by propitiation remove them.
Bere a yɛn bɔne menee yɛn no, wo na wode yɛn mmarato kyɛɛ yɛn.
4 How happy the man thou shalt choose and bring near! He shall abide in thy courts, —We shall be satisfied with, The blessing of thy house, The holiness of thy temple.
Nhyira nka wɔn a wuyi wɔn ma wɔbɛn wo sɛ wɔntena wʼadiwo hɔ! Nneɛma pa a ɛwɔ wo fi ahyɛ yɛn ma, nea ɛwɔ wʼasɔredan kronkron mu no.
5 By things reverend in righteousness, wilt thou answer us, O God of our salvation, The confidence of all the ends of the earth, And of the sea far away;
Wode trenee nnwuma a ɛyɛ nwonwa ma yɛn mmuae, Onyankopɔn, yɛn agyenkwa, asase so mmaa nyinaa anidaso ne po so akyirikyiri nso.
6 Who setteth fast the mountains by his strength, Being girded with might;
Wonam wo tumi so yɛɛ mmepɔw de daa wʼahoɔden adi.
7 Who stilleth, The noise of the seas, The noise of their rolling waves, and The tumult of races of men?
Wudwudwoo po asorɔkye ano, asorɔkye no mmobɔwee, ne amanaman no hooyɛ.
8 Yea the dwellers in the uttermost parts have feared at thy tokens, The goings forth of morning and evening, thou causest to shout for joy.
Wɔn a wɔte akyirikyiri no suro wʼanwonwade; faako a ade kye, nea anwummere yera, wofrɛ ahurusi nnwom wɔ hɔ.
9 Thou hast visited the earth, and made it abound, Abundantly, dost thou enrich it—The channel of God, is full of waters, Thou preparest their corn, Yea, thus, dost thou prepare it:
Wohwɛ asase no gugu so nsu; woma no yɛ asase pa ma ɛboro so. Wode nsu hyɛ Onyankopɔn nsuwansuwa ma sɛnea ɛbɛma nnipa no aduan, efisɛ saa ne nea woahyɛ.
10 The ridges thereof, drenching, Settling the furrows thereof, With myriad drops, dost thou soften it, The sprouting thereof, doth thou bless.
Wofɔw nea woafuntum hɔ no fɔkyee na wokaa nkɔmoa no kataa so; wode nsu petee so ma no yɛɛ bɛtɛɛ na wuhyiraa so afifide.
11 Thou hast set a crown upon thy year of bounty, And, thy tracks, drop fatness;
Wode nnɔbae bebree wiee afe no, na wo nteaseɛnam yɛɛ ma buu so.
12 Fruitful are the pastures of the wilderness, And, with exultation, the hills do gird themselves.
Sare so nwura dɔɔso na anigye baa nkoko so.
13 Clothed are the pastures with flocks, The valleys also, cover themselves with corn, They shout for joy, yea they sing.
Nguankuw ahyɛ adidibea hɔ ma na awi akata aku no so; wɔbɔ ose, to ahosɛpɛw dwom.
