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Ѱало́мъ к҃ѳ
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Psalm 29
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1
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1
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Ѱало́мъ пѣ́сни ѡ҆бновле́нїѧ до́мꙋ дв҃дова, к҃ѳ҃.
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For the end, a Psalm and Song at the dedication of the house of David.
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2
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2
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Вознесꙋ́ тѧ, гдⷭ҇и, ꙗ҆́кѡ под̾ѧ́лъ мѧ̀ є҆сѝ, и҆ не возвесели́лъ є҆сѝ врагѡ́въ мои́хъ ѡ҆ мнѣ̀.
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I will exalt thee, O Lord; for thou hast lifted me up, and not caused mine enemies to rejoice over me.
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3
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3
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Гдⷭ҇и бж҃е мо́й, воззва́хъ къ тебѣ̀, и҆ и҆зцѣли́лъ мѧ̀ є҆сѝ.
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O Lord my God, I cried to thee, and thou didst heal me.
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4
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4
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Гдⷭ҇и, возве́лъ є҆сѝ ѿ а҆́да дꙋ́шꙋ мою̀, сп҃слъ мѧ̀ є҆сѝ ѿ низходѧ́щихъ въ ро́въ.
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O Lord, thou hast brought up my soul from Hades, thou hast delivered me from among them that go down to the pit.
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5
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5
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По́йте гдⷭ҇еви, прпⷣбнїи є҆гѡ̀, и҆ и҆сповѣ́дайте па́мѧть ст҃ы́ни є҆гѡ̀:
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Sing to the Lord, ye his saints, and give thanks for the remembrance of his holiness.
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6
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6
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ꙗ҆́кѡ гнѣ́въ въ ꙗ҆́рости є҆гѡ̀, и҆ живо́тъ въ во́ли є҆гѡ̀: ве́черъ водвори́тсѧ пла́чь, и҆ заꙋ́тра ра́дость.
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For anger is in his wrath, but life in his favour: weeping shall tarry for the evening, but joy shall be in the morning.
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7
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7
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А҆́зъ же рѣ́хъ во ѻ҆би́лїи мое́мъ: не подви́жꙋсѧ во вѣ́къ.
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And I said in my prosperity, I shall never be moved.
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8
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8
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Гдⷭ҇и, во́лею твое́ю пода́ждь добро́тѣ мое́й си́лꙋ: ѿврати́лъ же є҆сѝ лицѐ твоѐ, и҆ бы́хъ смꙋще́нъ.
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O Lord, in thy good pleasure thou didst add strength to my beauty: but thou didst turn away thy face, and I was troubled.
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9
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9
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Къ тебѣ̀, гдⷭ҇и, воззовꙋ̀, и҆ къ бг҃ꙋ моемꙋ̀ помолю́сѧ.
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To thee, O Lord, will I cry; and to my God will I make supplication.
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10
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10
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Ка́ѧ по́льза въ кро́ви мое́й, внегда̀ сходи́ти мѝ во и҆стлѣ́нїе; є҆да̀ и҆сповѣ́стсѧ тебѣ̀ пе́рсть; и҆лѝ возвѣсти́тъ и҆́стинꙋ твою̀;
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What profit is there in my blood, when I go down to destruction? Shall the dust give praise to thee? or shall it declare thy truth?
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11
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11
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Слы́ша гдⷭ҇ь и҆ поми́лова мѧ̀: гдⷭ҇ь бы́сть помо́щникъ мо́й.
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The Lord heard, and had compassion upon me; the Lord is become my helper.
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12
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12
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Ѡ҆брати́лъ є҆сѝ пла́чь мо́й въ ра́дость мнѣ̀, растерза́лъ є҆сѝ вре́тище моѐ и҆ препоѧ́салъ мѧ̀ є҆сѝ весе́лїемъ,
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Thou hast turned my mourning into joy for me: thou hast rent off my sackcloth, and girded me with gladness;
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13
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13
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ꙗ҆́кѡ да воспое́тъ тебѣ̀ сла́ва моѧ̀, и҆ не оу҆милю́сѧ. Гдⷭ҇и бж҃е мо́й, во вѣ́къ и҆сповѣ́мсѧ тебѣ̀.
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that my glory may sing praise to thee, and I may not be pierced with sorrow. O Lord my God, I will give thanks to thee for ever.
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1001
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Сла́ва:
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