¹(En Salme. En Sang for Sabbatsdagen.) Det er godt at takke HERREN, lovsynge dit navn, du højeste,

¹A Psalm. — A Song for the sabbath-day. Good to give thanks to Jehovah, And to sing praises to Thy name, O Most High,

²ved Gry forkynde din Nåde, om Natten din Trofasthed

²To declare in the morning Thy kindness, And Thy faithfulness in the nights.

³til tistrenget Lyre, til Harpe, til Strengeleg på Citer!

³On ten strings and on psaltery, On higgaion, with harp.

⁴Thi ved dit Værk har du glædet mig, HERRE, jeg jubler over dine Hænders Gerning.

⁴For Thou hast caused me to rejoice, O Jehovah, in Thy work, Concerning the works of Thy hands I sing.

⁵Hvor store er dine Gerninger, HERRE, dine Tanker såre dybe!

⁵How great have been Thy works, O Jehovah, Very deep have been Thy thoughts.

⁶Tåben fatter det ikke, Dåren skønner ej sligt.

⁶A brutish man doth not know, And a fool understandeth not this; —

⁷Spirer de gudløse end som Græsset, blomstrer end alle Udådsmænd, er det kun for at lægges øde for stedse,

⁷When the wicked flourish as a herb, And blossom do all workers of iniquity — For their being destroyed for ever and ever!

⁸men du er ophøjet for evigt, HERRE.

⁸And Thou [art] high to the age, O Jehovah.

⁹Thi se, dine Fjender, HERRE, se, dine Fjender går under, alle Udådsmænd spredes!

⁹For, lo, Thine enemies, O Jehovah, For, lo, Thine enemies, do perish, Separate themselves do all workers of iniquity.

¹⁰Du har løftet mit Horn som Vildoksens, kvæget mig med den friskeste Olie;

¹⁰And Thou exaltest as a reem my horn, I have been anointed with fresh oil.

¹¹det fryder mit Øje at se mine Fjender, mit Øre at høre mine Avindsmænd.

¹¹And mine eye looketh on mine enemies, Of those rising up against me, The evil doers, do mine ears hear.

¹²De retfærdige grønnes som Palmen, vokser som Libanons Ceder;

¹²The righteous as a palm-tree flourisheth, As a cedar in Lebanon he groweth.

¹³plantet i HERRENs Hus grønnes de i vor Guds Forgårde;

¹³Those planted in the house of Jehovah, In the courts of our God do flourish.

¹⁴selv grånende bærer de Frugt, er friske og fulde af Saft

¹⁴Still they bring forth in old age, Fat and flourishing are they,

¹⁵for at vidne, at HERREN er retvis, min Klippe, hos hvem ingen Uret findes.

¹⁵To declare that upright [is] Jehovah my rock, And there is no perverseness in Him!