Gàidhlig
Salm 102
Rim ùrnaigh èisd, Iehòbhah Righ; is ruigeadh ort mo ghlaodh. Na falaich uam do ghnùis san là thig trioblaid orm gach taobh; San là an gairm mi ort gu geur, crom thugam fhèin do chluas; Is freagair mi gu deifireach, a' furtachd air mo chruas. Do bhrìgh gu bheil mo làith' mar cheò a' teireachdainn a-ghnàth; Mar lic an teinntein 's amhlaidh sin mo chnàmhan loisgte tha. Trom-bhuailte tha mo chridhe bochd, is shearg e mar am feur; Ionnas nach cuimhne leam gu beachd greim arain chur am bheul. Le guth mo chaoidh, mo chnàmhan lean rim chraiceann fhèin gu teann; Mar phelican an fhàsaich mi, 's mar chaillich-oidhch' nam beann. Ri faire tàim gu furachair, is cosmhail mi a-ghnàth Ri gealbhan beag na aonar fòs air mullach taighe tha. Ri fad an là mo naimhdean garg' gam mhaslachadh gu geur; 'S an dream a tha air boile rium am aghaidh mhionnaich iad. Lem dheuran cho-measg mi mo dheoch; mar aran dh'ith mi luath, Tre lasan d'fheirg'; oir thog thu mi is leag thu rìs gu truagh. Mar sgàile chlaon mo làithean sìos; is shearg mì fhèin mar fheur. Ach mairidh tus' am feasd, a Dhè, 's do chuimhne fhèin gu sìor. Nis èiridh tu a dhèanamh gràis air Sion naomh gu dlùth; Oir àm a cobhair tha air teachd, seadh, 'n t-àm a dh'òrdaich thu. Oir d'òglach tha a' gabhail tlachd na clachan brèagh' gach uair; Tha deagh thoil aig do sheirbhisich da luaithre is da h-ùir. Mar sin bidh air na fineachan eagal ro ainm an Triath; Is air gach rìgh air thalamh tha bidh ro do ghlòir-sa fiamh. Nuair thogar Sion suas le Dia taisbeanar e na ghlòir. Urnaigh nam bochd bheir e fa-near, 's cha diùlt e iad le tàir. Don àl a tha ri teachd nar dèidh, siud sgrìobhar dhaibh gu beachd; 'S an dream a ghinear o seo suas, molaidh iad Dia nam feart. Oir dh'amhairc e a-nuas gu beachd, o àird a naomhachd fhèin; Is air an talamh dh'amhairc Dia, a-nuas o nèamh nan speur; A chluinntinn osnaich ghearanach a' phrìosanaich tha 'n sàs; Chum fuasgladh air a' mhuinntir sin a dh'òrdaicheadh chum bàis. An Sion chum a chur an cèill ainm uasal àrd ar Dia, 'S a dh'innse an Ierusalem moladh is cliù an Triath. An t-àm a bhios na fineachan air cruinneachadh le chèil'; 'S gu seirbhis Dhè tràth thionailear na rìoghachdan gu lèir. Air feadh na slighe is an ròid mo threòir do lagadh leis; Mo làithean chuir an giorrad fòs. 'S mar seo do labhair mis'; Mo Dhia, na glacar mi le bàs, mu thimcheall leth mo là; O aois gu aois gu maireannach, do bhliadhnaidh buan a ta. O chian leag thusa bunaitean na talmhainn seo, a Dhè; Is iad na nèamhan fìorghlan àrd' oibrean do làmhan fhèin. Teirigidh iadsan 's thèid iad as, ach mairidh tusa, Dhè; Seadh, teirgidh iadsan 's gabhaidh seach mar aodach sean gu lèir; Feuch, caochlaidh tu mar thrusgan iad, is caochlar iad gun cheist. Tha thus' a-mhàin gun chaochladh ort, 's do bhliadhnaidh buan am feasd. Bidh clann do sheirbhiseach, a Dhè, maireannach buan a-ghnàth; Is ann ad fhianais socraichear an gineal-san gu bràth.
(Bho Tiomnadh Nuadh, Dùn Eideann (2002))
English
Psalm 102
Prayer of someone afflicted, when he is faint and pours out his complaint before Yahweh.
O Yahweh, hear my prayer;
let my cry for help reach you.
Do not hide your face from me
when I am in trouble.
Turn your ear to me;
when I call, answer quickly.
For my days disappear like smoke;
my bones burn like embers.
My heart is like a blighted grass;
I fail to eat my food.
Through my groaning aloud
I am mere skin and bone.
I am like a desert owl,
like an owl screeching in ruins.
I lie awake
like a lone bird on a rooftop.
All day long my enemies taunt me;
those who once praised me now curse with
my name.
I eat ashes as food,
and mix tears with my drink.
In your furious wrath
you have picked me up and discarded me.
My days wane like twilight shadows;
I wither like grass.
But you, O Yahweh, reign forever;
all generations honour you.
You will arise to show Zion mercy,
for it is time to pity her;
the appointed time has come.
Her stones are dear to your servants;
her very dust moves them to pity.
The nations will fear the name of Yahweh,
and all the kings of the earth your glory.
For Yahweh will rebuild Zion
and appear in his glory.
He will hear the plea of the destitute,
and will not scorn their prayer.
Let this be recorded for a future generation,
for a people not yet born to praise Yahweh:
Yahweh leaned down from the heights of his
sanctuary,
he has looked down from heaven to earth,
to hear the groans of the prisoners
and release those under sentence of death,
to proclaim the name of Yahweh in Zion
and his praise in Jerusalem;
when nations will gather together
and kingdoms to worship Yahweh.
He broke my strength before my life is run;
he has cut short my allotted time.
So I said, "O my God,
do not remove me in the midst of my days;
for your years extend through all generations.
In the beginning you laid the foundations of earth,
the heavens are all the work of your hands.
They will perish, but you remain;
they will all wear out like clothes;
like a garment you will change them,
and they will be discarded.
But you remain the same,
and your years never end.
Your servants' children will dwell secure,
and their descendants will live in your
presence."
(From The Psalms, Slough (1994))