Psalms 3
1 A Melody of David, when he fled from before Absolom his son. Yahweh! how have mine adversaries multiplied, Multitudes, are rising against me;
Dawut öz oghli Abshalomdin qéchip yürgen künlerde yazghan küy: — I Perwerdigar, méni qistawatqanlar neqeder köpiyip ketken, Men bilen qarshilishiwatqanlar némidégen köp!
2 Multitudes, are saying of my soul, —No salvation for him in God. (Selah)
Nurghunlar men toghruluq: — «Xudadin uninggha héch nijat yoqtur!» déyishiwatidu. (Sélah)
3 But, thou, Yahweh, art a shield about me, my glory, and the lifter up of my head.
Biraq Sen, i Perwerdigar, etrapimdiki qalqandursen; Shan-sheripim hem béshimni yöligüchidursen!
4 With my voice—unto Yahweh, do I cry, and he hath answered me out of his holy mountain. (Selah)
Awazim bilen men Perwerdigargha nida qilimen, U muqeddes téghidin ijabet béridu. (Sélah)
5 I, laid me down and slept, —I awoke, Surely, Yahweh, sustaineth me!
Men bolsam yattim, uxlidim; Oyghandim, chünki Perwerdigar manga yar-yölek bolidu.
6 I will not be afraid of myriads of people, who, round about, have set themselves against me.
Méni qorshap sep tüzgen tümenligen ademler bolsimu, Men ulardin qorqmaymen!
7 Rise! Yahweh, Save me, my God. Surely thou hast smitten all my foes on the cheekbone, The teeth of the lawless, hast thou broken.
I Perwerdigar, ornungdin tur! Méni qutquz, i Xudayim! Méning barliq düshmenlirimning testikige salghaysen; Rezillerning chishlirini chéqiwetkeysen!
8 To Yahweh, belongeth Salvation! Upon thy people, be thy blessing. (Selah)
Nijatliq bolsa Perwerdigardindur; Berikiting Öz xelqingde bolsun! (Sélah)
