Psalmi 144
1 Davidova. Blagoslovljen bodi Gospod, skala moja, kateri uči boj roke moje, prste moje vojsko;
A psalm of David. Praise the Lord—he is my rock. He trains me for battle, he gives me skill for war.
2 Milost moja in grad moj; višava moja in rešitelj moj: pomočnik, ščit moj, do katerega pribegam, ki mi podložno dela ljudstvo moje.
He is the one who faithfully loves me, protects me, and defends me. He is the one who rescues me, shields me from danger, and keeps me safe. He defeats nations and places them under my rule.
3 Gospod, kaj je človek, da ga spoznaš, sin umrjoči, da se zmeniš zanj?
Lord, what are human beings that you should care about them? What are people that you should concern yourself with them?
4 Človek je podoben ničemurnosti, dnevi njegovi so kakor mimo gredočega senca.
Humanity is like a breath; their lives are like a passing shadow.
5 Gospod, nagni nebesa svoja ter stopi dol; dotakni so tistih gorâ, in kadé se naj.
Part your heavens and come down. Touch the mountains so that they give off smoke.
6 Strelo zaženi in razkropi jih; proži pušice svoje in izbegaj jih.
Scatter your enemies with flashes of lightning! Let your arrows fly and send them running in confusion!
7 Iztegni roko svojo z višave; reši me in otmi me iz mnogih vodâ, iz tujcev roke.
Stretch down your hand from heaven and set me free. Rescue me from raging waters, from the oppression of foreign enemies.
8 Njih usta govoré nično, in njih desnica je krivičnosti desnica.
They are such liars, even telling lies under oath.
9 Bog, novo pesem bodem ti pel; na deseterostrunje bodem ti prepeval.
God, I will sing a new song to you, accompanied by a ten-stringed harp,
10 Tebi, ki daješ blaginjo kraljem, otimaš Davida, hlapca svojega, od hudobnega meča.
to you, the one who gives victory to kings. You saved your servant David from death by the sword.
11 Réši me in otmi me iz tujcev roke, katerih usta govoré nično, in njih desnica je krivičnosti desnica.
Set me free. Rescue me from the oppression of foreign enemies. They are such liars, even telling lies under oath.
12 Da bodo sinovi naši kakor rastline dobro zrejene v nežni dobi svoji, in hčere naše kakor vogelni kameni obdelani v svetišči.
Then our sons will grow up like plants in their youth and become mature, and our daughters will be like beautiful pillars carved to support a palace.
13 Žitnice naše polne naj dajo obilen živež; naše ovce naj tisočero rodévajo, tisočkrat naj bodo pomnožene v stajah naših.
Our storehouses will be full of all kinds of crops; our flocks of sheep will grow by thousands, increasing by tens of thousands in the pastures.
14 In voli naši predebeli; nič napada, nič izpada, in tožbe naj ne bode v ulicah naših.
Our cattle will grow fat. No one will break down our city walls, there will be no exile, no cries of mourning in our town squares.
15 Blagor onemu ljudstvu, kateremu se tako godi; blagor ljudstvu, kogar Bog je Gospod.
The people who live like this will be happy. Happy are those whose God is the Lord.
