Psalms 142

1 A contemplation by David, when he was in the cave. A Prayer. I cry with my voice to the LORD. With my voice, I ask the LORD for mercy.

En Maskil af David, da han var i Hulen. En Bøn.

2 I pour out my complaint before him. I tell him my troubles.

Jeg løfter min Røst og raaber til HERREN, jeg løfter min Røst og trygler HERREN,

3 When my spirit was overwhelmed within me, you knew my route. On the path in which I walk, they have hidden a snare for me.

udøser min Klage for ham, udtaler min Nød for ham.

4 Look on my right, and see; for there is no one who is concerned for me. Refuge has fled from me. No one cares for my soul.

Naar Aanden vansmægter i mig, kender du dog min Sti. Paa Vejen, ad hvilken jeg vandrer, lægger de Snarer for mig.

5 I cried to you, LORD. I said, “You are my refuge, my portion in the land of the living.”

Jeg skuer til højre og spejder, men ingen vil kendes ved mig, afskaaret er mig hver Tilflugt, ingen bryder sig om min Sjæl.

6 Listen to my cry, for I am in desperate need. Deliver me from my persecutors, for they are too strong for me.

HERRE, jeg raaber til dig og siger: Du er min Tilflugt, min Del i de levendes Land!

7 Bring my soul out of prison, that I may give thanks to your name. The righteous will surround me, for you will be good to me.

Lyt til mit Klageraab, thi jeg er saare ringe, frels mig fra dem, der forfølger mig, de er for stærke for mig; udfri min Sjæl af dens Fængsel, at jeg kan prise dit Navn! De retfærdige venter i Spænding paa, at du tager dig af mig.