Psa Psalms, psalm Book of Psalms, psalm 39
Sálmarnir 39:6 í mismunandi þýðingum
Enska
KJV (66 books)
Surely every man walketh in a vain shew: surely they are disquieted in vain: he heapeth up riches, and knoweth not who shall gather them.
ASV
Surely every man walketh in a vain show; Surely they are disquieted in vain: He heapeth up riches, and knoweth not who shall gather them.
BSB
Surely every man goes about like a phantom; surely he bustles in vain; he heaps up riches not knowing who will haul them away.
DRA [38:7]
Surely man passeth as an image: yea, and he is disquieted in vain. He storeth up: and he knoweth not for whom he shall gather these things.
FBV
Human beings are just shadows walking around. They pointlessly rush through life, trying to pile up possessions without knowing who will get them.
GNV
Doubtlesse man walketh in a shadowe, and disquieteth himselfe in vaine: he heapeth vp riches, and cannot tell who shall gather them.
JPS
Surely man walketh as a mere semblance; surely for vanity they are in turmoil; he heapeth up riches, and knoweth not who shall gather them.
LSV
Only, each habitually walks in an image, || Only, [in] vain, they are disquieted, || He heaps up and does not know who gathers them.
NASB
“Certainly every person walks around as a fleeting shadow; They certainly make an uproar for nothing; He amasses riches and does not know who will gather them. NASB 2020
NIV (US)
“Surely everyone goes around like a mere phantom; in vain they rush about, heaping up wealth without knowing whose it will finally be.
OJB [39:7]
Surely every ish walketh in a tzel (shadow); surely they are in turmoil in vain; he heapeth up riches, and hath no da'as of who shall gather them.
T4T
Then we disappear like a shadow does. It seems that all that we do is for nothing/useless. We sometimes get a lot of money, but we do not know who will get it after we die.
WEB (US)
“Surely every man walks like a shadow. Surely they busy themselves in vain. He heaps up, and doesn’t know who shall gather.
Íslenska
OLO [39:6–7]
Ævi mín er lítið lengri en höndin á mér! Og í þínum augum er hún nánast ekki neitt! Maðurinn, hvað er hann? Vindblær, flöktandi skuggi! Ys hans og amstur kemur engu til leiðar. Hann rakar saman fé sem svo aðrir eyða!“