Gàidhlig
Salm 71
'S ann riut a tha mi 'g earbsa, Dhè; nàir' orm am feasd na biodh; Ad cheartas fòir, thoir orm dol as; aom rium do chluas, saor mi. Ad charraig còmhnaidh bi-sa dhomh, don tathaicheam do shìor; Mo chaisteal, is mo dhaingneach thu, thug àithne chum mo dhìon. A làimh nan aingidh, O mo Dhia, dèan fuasgladh dhomh am chruas, A làimh na muinntir eucoraich a tha gun iochd, gun truas. Oir 's tusa, Thighearna mo Dhia, mo dhòchas ann am fheum; O aois is aimsir m'òige nuas, mo mhuinghinn thu ro-threun. 'S ann leatsa chumadh mise suas, o thàingeas as a' bhroinn; A bolg mo mhàthar bhuin thu mi; sìor mholam thu gu binn. Mar adhbhar iongantais, a Dhè, aig mòran a ta mi; Ach 's tusa 's tèarmann dìleas dhomh, 's mo spionnadh mòr gun dìth. Lìonar mo bheul led mholadh-sa, 's led urram fhèin gach lò. Na tilg mi dhìot am aois; 's na trèig 'n tràth dh'fhàilnicheas mo threòir. Oir 'm aghaidh mheud 's as naimhdean dhomh labhair gu sgaiteach geur; 'S an dream tha brath air m'anam bochd, ghabh comhairle le chèil', Ag ràdh, Do thrèigeadh e le Dia, leanaibh e nis gu teann, Is glacaibh, oir ga theasairginn chan eil neach idir ann. A Dhè, na bi-sa fada uam; fòir orm, mo Dhia, gu luath. Biodh nàir' is claoidh air m'eascairdean, ga bheil dom anam fuath; Masladh is nàire falaicheadh iad, tha 'g iarraidh m'uilc gach lò. Sìor earbam riut, is seinnidh mi do chliù nas mò 's nas mò. Labhraidh mo bheul air d'fhìreantachd, 's do shlàint' gach là gun sgìos; An àireamh siud aig lìonmhorachd chan fhaodar leam chur sìos. Tre neart an Tighearna mo Dhia, fòs gluaisidh mi a-ghnàth; Is nì mi sgeul air d'fhìreantachd, d'fhìreantachd fhèin a-mhàin. Om òige rinn thu teagasg dhomh, a Thighearn is a Dhè; Is chuir mi d'oibrean iongantach gu ruige seo an cèill. A-nis air bhith dhomh aosmhor liath, na trèig mi, Dhia nam feart; Gun taisbeininn do neart 's do threis, don àl a th'ann, 's ri teachd. 'S ro-àrd do cheartas fhèin, a Dhè, is rinn thu beairtean mòr'; O Dhia, cò e as cosmhail riut, no choimeas riut as còir? Trioblaid ro-mhòr is an-shocair, 's tu thaisbein dhomh, a Dhè; Ath-bheothaichidh, is bheir thu rìs o dhoimhneachd talmhainn mi. Mo mhòrachd cuiridh tus' am meud, 's bheir sòlas air gach taobh. Air saltair molam thu, mo Dhia, seadh, d'fhìrinn tha ro-chaomh. Is seinneam dhut air clàrsaich bhinn, O Aoin naoimh Israèil. Mo bhilean nì mòr-ghàirdeachas, 'n tràth sheinneam dhut lem bheul; Bidh subhachas is aoibhneas mòr air m'anam fhèin, a Dhè, A shaoradh leat gu tròcaireach o thrioblaidean gu lèir. Is bidh mo theang' air d'fhìreantachd ag iomradh feadh an là; Oir nàir' is amhluadh fhuair an dream 'g iarraidh mo lochd a tha.
(Bho Tiomnadh Nuadh, Dùn Eideann (2002))
English
Psalm 71
I have found refuge in you, O Yahweh,
let me never be put to shame.
By the power of your righteousness
save and deliver me,
hear me and rescue me.
Be a fortified rock for me,
where I can always go;
give the order to save me,
for you are my stronghold and rock.
Deliver me, O God, from wicked hands,
from the grasp of the evil and cruel.
For you are my hope, O Lord of all,
my trust, O Yahweh, since a child;
from birth I relied on you;
you brought me from my mother's womb;
always, I sing your praise.
I have become like a warning to many,
but I have you for my strong refuge.
My mouth is full of your praise,
all day long declaring your splendour.
Do not reject me in my old age;
do not desert me when strength has failed.
For my foes speak against me;
conspirators plot my death,
saying, "God has forsaken him;
chase him and seize him,
for no one will rescue him."
O God, do not stand aloof;
O my God, come quickly and help.
May my slanderers die in shame;
may those who wish me harm
be covered with scorn and disgrace.
But as for me, I will always hope;
my praise for you will always grow.
My mouth will speak of your righteousness,
and tell all day of your saving power,
it is past my skills to say it all.
I will come and declare your mighty acts,
O Lord of all,
and proclaim your justice, yours alone.
O God, you have taught me from my youth;
all my life I have told of your mighty acts.
Even when I am old and grey,
do not desert me, O God,
until I have told of your strength
to generations still to come,
your might to all who are still to come.
Your righteousness reaches the skies, O God,
you have done such great things, O God;
who is like you?
You have shown me troubles,
many and bitter,
but you will restore my life again;
you will raise me again from the depths of
earth.
Restore me to honour;
give me comfort again.
I will praise you on the harp,
for your constancy, O God;
I will praise you with the lyre,
O Holy One of Israel.
My lips shout for joy as I sing to you,
for you have redeemed me.
All day long my tongue tells
of your righteous deeds,
for those who would harm me
are shamed and disgraced.
(From The Psalms, Slough (1994))