Psaumes 42
1 Pour la fin, intelligence aux fils de Coré. Comme le cerf soupire après les sources des eaux, ainsi mon âme soupire après vous, ô mon Dieu.
To the chief music-maker. Maschil. Of the sons of Korah. Like the desire of the roe for the water-streams, so is my soul's desire for you, O God.
2 Mon âme a eu soif du Dieu fort, vivant: quand viendrai-je, et paraîtrai-je devant la face de Dieu?
My soul is dry for need of God, the living God; when may I come and see the face of God?
3 Mes larmes m’ont servi de pains le jour et la nuit: pendant qu’on me dit tous les jours: Où est ton Dieu?
My tears have been my food day and night, while they keep saying to me, Where is your God?
4 Je me suis souvenu de ces choses, et j’ai répandu en moi mon âme; parce que je passerai dans le lieu du tabernacle admirable, jusqu’à la maison de Dieu;
Let my soul be overflowing with grief when these things come back to my mind, how I went in company to the house of God, with the voice of joy and praise, with the song of those who were keeping the feast.
5 Pourquoi es-tu triste, mon âme? Et pourquoi me troubles-tu? Espère en Dieu, parce que je le louerai encore: il est le salut de mon visage,
Why are you crushed down, O my soul? and why are you troubled in me? put your hope in God; for I will again give him praise who is my help and my God.
6 Et mon Dieu.
My soul is crushed down in me, so I will keep you in mind; from the land of Jordan and of the Hermons, from the hill Mizar.
7 Un abîme appelle un autre abîme, à la voix de vos cataractes.
Deep is sounding to deep at the noise of your waterfalls; all your waves have gone rolling over me.
8 Pendant le jour, le Seigneur a commandé à sa miséricorde de m’environner. Et pendant la nuit, un cantique à sa louange a été dans ma bouche.
But the Lord will send his mercy in the daytime, and in the night his song will be with me, a prayer to the God of my life.
9 Je dirai à Dieu: Vous êtes mon soutien.
I will say to God my Rock, Why have you let me go from your memory? why do I go in sorrow because of the attacks of my haters?
10 Tandis qu’on brise mes os, mes ennemis, qui me tourmentent, m’accablent de reproches,
The cruel words of my haters are like a crushing of my bones; when they say to me every day, Where is your God?
11 Pourquoi es-tu triste, mon âme? Et pourquoi me troubles-tu?
Why are you crushed down, O my soul? and why are you troubled in me? put your hope in God; for I will again give him praise who is my help and my God.
