Psalm 142[a]

A maskil[b] of David. When he was in the cave.(A) A prayer.

I cry aloud(B) to the Lord;
    I lift up my voice to the Lord for mercy.(C)
I pour out before him my complaint;(D)
    before him I tell my trouble.(E)

When my spirit grows faint(F) within me,
    it is you who watch over my way.
In the path where I walk
    people have hidden a snare for me.
Look and see, there is no one at my right hand;
    no one is concerned for me.
I have no refuge;(G)
    no one cares(H) for my life.

I cry to you, Lord;
    I say, “You are my refuge,(I)
    my portion(J) in the land of the living.”(K)

Listen to my cry,(L)
    for I am in desperate need;(M)
rescue me(N) from those who pursue me,
    for they are too strong(O) for me.
Set me free from my prison,(P)
    that I may praise your name.(Q)
Then the righteous will gather about me
    because of your goodness to me.(R)

Footnotes

  1. Psalm 142:1 In Hebrew texts 142:1-7 is numbered 142:2-8.
  2. Psalm 142:1 Title: Probably a literary or musical term

A Plea for Relief from Persecutors

A (A)Contemplation[a] of David. A Prayer (B)when he was in the cave.

142 I cry out to the Lord with my voice;
With my voice to the Lord I make my supplication.
I pour out my complaint before Him;
I declare before Him my trouble.

When my spirit [b]was (C)overwhelmed within me,
Then You knew my path.
In the way in which I walk
They have secretly (D)set a snare for me.
Look on my right hand and see,
For there is no one who acknowledges me;
Refuge has failed me;
No one cares for my soul.

I cried out to You, O Lord:
I said, “You are my refuge,
My portion in the land of the living.
[c]Attend to my cry,
For I am brought very low;
Deliver me from my persecutors,
For they are stronger than I.
Bring my soul out of prison,
That I may (E)praise Your name;
The righteous shall surround me,
For You shall deal bountifully with me.”

Footnotes

  1. Psalm 142:1 Heb. Maschil
  2. Psalm 142:3 Lit. fainted
  3. Psalm 142:6 Give heed

142 En læresalme av David, da han var i hulen, en bønn.

Med min røst roper jeg til Herren, med min røst beder jeg inderlig til Herren.

Jeg utøser min sorg for hans åsyn, jeg gir min nød til kjenne for hans åsyn.

Når min ånd vansmekter i mig, kjenner dog du min sti; på den vei jeg skal vandre, har de lagt skjulte snarer for mig.

Sku til min høire side og se! Det er ikke nogen som kjennes ved mig; all tilflukt er borte for mig, det er ikke nogen som spør efter min sjel.

Jeg roper til dig, Herre! Jeg sier: Du er min tilflukt, min del i de levendes land.

Gi akt på mitt klagerop, for jeg er blitt såre elendig! Fri mig fra mine forfølgere, for de er mig for sterke!

Før min sjel ut av fengslet, så jeg kan love ditt navn! De rettferdige skal samle sig omkring mig, når du gjør vel imot mig.