Gàidhlig
Salm 68
Eireadh ar Dia, is sgaoilear leis an dream as naimhdean dha; 'S an aitim sin thug dhàsan fuath, teicheadh o ghnùis gu bràth. Mar sgapar deatach, fuadaich iad; mar leaghas teine cèir. Mar sin gun sgriosar droch dhaoin' as à fianais Dhè gu lèir. Ach gàirdeachas air daoine còir, is aoibhneas gu robh ac' Am fianais Dhè, le luathghair mhòir, 's iad suilbhir agus ait. Seinnibh do Dhia, sìor mholaibh 'ainm; àrdaichibh 'n Tì a tha Marcachd air nèamh, tre 'ainm-san IAH, bibh ait na làth'r a-ghnàth. Do dhìlleachdain is athair Dia; do bhantraichean gun neart, An taigh a naomhachd tha e ghnàth na bhritheamh dìreach ceart. Suidhichidh Dia an teaghlaichean an dream tha uaigneach truagh; Is saoraidh e gu tròcaireach na bheil fo chuibhrich chruaidh; Ach meud 's a bhìos gu h-eucorach ri ceannairc is ri lochd, Nì iadsan còmhnaidh bhunaiteach am fearann tioram bochd. Air ceann do shluaigh tràth dh'imich thu, a Dhè, san fhàsach chruaidh, Chriothnaich an talamh, shil an speur, an làthair Dhè nan sluagh; Sliabh Shinài fhèin tha daingeann àrd, chriothnaich is luaisg gu mòr, An làthair Dhè, Dia Israeil, tha urramach an glòir. Shil thusa, Thighearna, gu pailt frasan a-nuas gun dìth; Is shuidhich agus dh'fhurtaich thu air d'oighreachd, is i sgìth. Bha fòs do choitheanal 's do shluagh nan còmhnaidh innt', a Dhè, Ded mhaitheas rinn thu deasachadh dod dhaoine bochda fhèin. An Tighearna tha làidir treun, leig e a ghuth a-mach, 'S a' chuideachd sin a dh'fhoillsich e bu lìonmhor iomarcach. Rìghrean nan armailtean 's nam feachd, an sin le deifir theich; 'S ise a dh'fhuirich aig an taigh, bha i a' roinn na creich'. Measg phota laigh sibh, ach bidh sibh mar sgiath nan calman luath, Falaicht' le airgead, is an cleit le òr as deirge snuadh. Tràth sgaoil Dia uile-chumhachdach na rìghrean innt' a-steach; 'N sin bha i geal mar Shalmon àrd, 's i uile làn de shneachd. An sliabh ud, Dhè, is cosmhail e, ri Basan measg nam beann, Mar Bhasan mòr is amhlaidh e, gu h-àrd a thog a cheann. Carson a leum sibh, bheanntan àrd? 's e seo àrd-thulach Dhè, Am miann leis tàmh, is bithidh e na chòmhnaidh ann gach rè. Tha carbaid Dhè nam fichead mìl'; mìltean de ainglean treun'; Na theampall naomh tha Dia nam measg ionann 's na Shinài fhèin. Is chaidh thu suas air ionad àrd, thug bruid am braighdeanas, Do dhaoine fhuair thu tìodhlacan, len dèan thu toirbheartas; 'S ann cheana fòs don mhuinntir ud ro-cheannairceach a tha, A-chum gum biodh Iehobhah Dia na chòmhnaidh ac' a-ghnàth. Dia guma beannaicht' gu robh e, tha dòrtadh oirnn gach lò A thìodhlacan; 's e Dia ar slàint', an Dia a chùm sinn beò. Is leinn an Dia tha làidir treun, nì cobhair anns gach càs; Do Dhia Iehòbhah buinidh fòs làn-teasairginn on bhàs. Ach ceann a naimhdean brisidh Dia, is claigeann greannach cruaidh An fhir a dh'imicheas gu dàn na chionta fhèin gach uair. Deir Dia, Bheir mise air an ais mo shluagh o Bhasan àrd; 'S o dhoimhneachd fairge bheir mi rìs, a-nìos iad le mòr-bhàigh. Chum ann am fuil do naimhdean dian, do chos gun dèanar dearg, 'S gun tumar fòs nam fuil-san fhèin teanga do mhadradh garg'. Do thriall-sa chunnaic iad, a Dhè, a Thighearna ro-chaoimh, 'S e triall mo Thighearn is mo Rìgh, 's ann anns an àros naomh. Luchd-òrain dh'imich iad air tùs, luchd inneil-ciùil a rìs; Nam measg a' bualadh thiompan fòs na maighdeannan gu mìn. Dèanaibh-sa Dia a bheannachadh, nur coitheanal le chèil', Eadhon Iehòbhah Dia nam feart, o thobar Israèil. Beniàmin beag len triath an siud, bha prionnsan Iùdah ann, Len comhairl', prionnsan Naphtali, is prionnsan Shebuluin. Do Dhia 's e dh'àithn is dh'ordaich dhut do neart is fòs do threòir; An gnìomh a rinn thu air ar son neartaich, a Dhè na glòir'. Airson do theampaill naoimh, a Dhè, tha aig Ierusalem, Do bheir na rìghrean tha mun cuairt deagh thìodhlacan dhut fhèin. Thoir achmhasan do luchd nan sleagh, 's do chuideachd mhòir nan tarbh, Do laoghan fòs a' phobaill ud, thoir achmhasan gu garbh. Le mìrean airgid gus an gèill iad siud gu lèir dod smachd; Sgaoil thus' am poball ud, a Dhè, a ghabh don chogadh tlachd. Thig prionnsan mòr' on Eiphit mach, 's ni Etiopia fòs A làmhan shìneadh mach gu luath suas ri Ard-Rìgh na glòir'. O rìoghachdan an domhain mhòir, seinnibh do Dhia gu grinn; Don dia as Rìgh 's as Tighearn ann, seinnibh-sa moladh binn; Don mharcach àrd air nèamh nan nèamh, tha ann on aimsir chèin; Feuch, tha e cur a-mach a ghuth', a ghuth tha làidir treun. Sìor thugaibh neart do Dhia; oir tha a ghlòir thar Israèl, 'S a threis a ta sna nèamhan àrd', 's an neulan tiugh' nan speur. Od naomh-thaigh 's uamhasach thu, Dhè; Dia Israeil gu beachd, Da phoball bheir sàr-neart is treòir; 's beannaichte Dia nam feart.
(Bho Tiomnadh Nuadh, Dùn Eideann (2002))
English
Psalm 68
For the choirmaster. Of David. Psalm. Song.
May God arise and his foes be scattered,
may those who hate him flee before him.
You blow them away like wind;
you melt them like wax near fire.
The wicked die near God.
But the upright are joyful;
they exalt before God and cry out with joy.
Sing to God, sing praise to his name,
extol him who rides on the clouds;
rejoice in Yahweh and dance before him.
Father of orphans, the widow's defender,
such is God in his holy dwelling.
God gives a home to the friendless,
he leads the prisoner to safety,
but rebels are left
in a sun-scorched land.
O God, when you marched at the head of your
people,
when you strode through the desert places,
the earth shook and the heavens poured rain
at the presence of God,
the God of Israel.
O God, you rained a shower of blessings;
your weary inheritance
was filled with strength.
Your people settled, and in your goodness,
O God, you provided for the poor.
Yahweh gave the command,
and great was the number
of those who proclaimed it:
"Kings and their armies have fled in haste;
their camps are plundered
and the loot shared out.
While you are asleep in the sheepfolds,
the wings of the dove are covered in silver,
her feathers with shining gold.
When the Almighty routed the kings in the land
it was like snow falling on Zalmon."
The hill of Bashan is a high hill;
an arrogant hill is the hill of Bashan!
Why do you envy, you arrogant hills,
the mountain where God has chosen to live?
God will live there forever.
The chariots of God are tens of thousands,
and thousands of thousands;
Yahweh has come to his Temple from Sinai.
You have scaled the heights and taken captives;
all brought you tribute, even rebels,
that Yahweh God might have a dwelling.
Blessed be Yahweh who carries us daily,
God our Saviour.
Our God is a God who saves us;
from Yahweh God comes escape from death.
God crushes the heads of his foes,
the matted head of the one who walks in
wickedness.
Yahweh has said, "I will fetch them from Bashan,
I will fetch them from the depths of the sea,
that you may bathe your feet in blood
and your dogs lap your enemies blood."
Your processions have come into view, O God;
parades of my God, of my King,
to the sanctuary.
In front are the singers; behind them, musicians;
with them the maidens
playing on tambourines.
Bless God in the great congregation;
let the assembly of Israel bless Yahweh.
Led by the youngest, the tribe of Benjamin,
the princes of Judah wear bright-coloured
robes,
the princes of Zebulun, the princes of Naphtali.
Summon your might, O God;
show us your strength, O God,
as you did before.
Kings will come to you bearing gifts
for the sake of your Temple
in Jerusalem.
Rebuke the Beast of the Reeds,
that herd of bulls,
the bull-calf troops of the nations.
Make it bring bars of silver,
and prostrate itself.
Scatter the nations which revel in war.
Envoys will come from Egypt;
Nubia will stretch out its hands to God.
You kingdoms of earth, sing praises to God,
sing praise to the Lord,
to him who rides the ancient skies,
who thunders with a mighty voice.
Proclaim the might of God,
Israel's pride,
the power enthroned in the skies.
You are awesome, O God, in your sanctuary.
He is Israel's God.
He gives might and power
to his people.
Praise be to God.
(From The Psalms, Slough (1994))