Ps 89:1-17 Sit splendor Domini super nos
“Unus dies apud Dominum sicut mille anni, et mille anni sicut dies unus” (2 Petr 3, 8).
Anni nostri sicut herba tránseunt: a sǽculo tu es, Deus.
1Dómine, refúgium factus es nobis*
a generatióne in generatiónem.
2Priúsquam montes nasceréntur†
aut gignerétur terra et orbis,*
a sǽculo et usque in sǽculum tu es Deus.
3Redúcis hóminem in púlverem;*
et dixísti: «Revertímini, fílii hóminum».
4Quóniam mille anni ante óculos tuos tamquam dies hestérna, quæ prætériit,*
et custódia in nocte.
5Auferes eos, sómnium erunt:*
6mane sicut herba succréscens,
mane floret et crescit,*
véspere décidit et aréscit.
7Quia defécimus in ira tua*
et in furóre tuo turbáti sumus.
8Posuísti iniquitátes nostras in conspéctu tuo,*
occúlta nostra in illuminatióne vultus tui.
9Quóniam omnes dies nostri evanuérunt in ira tua,*
consúmpsimus ut suspírium annos nostros.
10Dies annórum nostrórum sunt septuagínta anni*
aut in valéntibus octogínta anni,
et maior pars eórum labor et dolor,*
quóniam cito tránseunt, et avolámus.
11Quis novit potestátem iræ tuæ*
et secúndum timórem tuum indignatiónem tuam?
12Dinumeráre dies nostros sic doce nos,*
ut inducámus cor ad sapiéntiam.
13Convértere, Dómine, úsquequo?*
Et deprecábilis esto super servos tuos.
14Reple nos mane misericórdia tua,*
et exsultábimus et delectábimur ómnibus diébus nostris.
15Lætífica nos pro diébus, quibus nos humiliásti,*
pro annis, quibus vídimus mala.
16Appáreat servis tuis opus tuum*
et decor tuus fíliis eórum.
17Et sit splendor Dómini Dei nostri super nos,†
et ópera mánuum nostrárum confírma super nos*
et opus mánuum nostrárum confírma.
Glória Patri et Fílio*
et Spirítui Sancto.
Sicut erat in princípio et nunc et semper*
et in sǽcula sæculórum.
Amen.
Anni nostri sicut herba tránseunt: a sǽculo tu es, Deus.
| Psalm 89 (90) Let the Lord's glory shine upon us
Our years pass like grass; but you, God, are without beginning or end.
Lord, you have been our refuge
from generation to generation.
Before the mountains were born,
before earth and heaven were conceived,
from all time to all time, you are God.
You turn men into dust,
you say to them “go back, children of men.”
A thousand years in your sight
are like yesterday, that has passed;
like a short watch in the night.
When you take them away, they will be nothing but a dream;
like the grass that sprouts in the morning:
in the morning it grows and flowers,
in the evening it withers and dries.
For we are made weak by your anger,
thrown into confusion by your wrath.
You have gazed upon our transgressions;
the light of your face illuminates our secrets.
All our days vanish in your anger,
we use up our years in a single breath.
Seventy years are what we have,
or eighty for the stronger ones;
and most of that is labour and sadness –
quickly they pass, and we are gone.
Who can comprehend the power of your wrath?
Who can behold the violence of your anger?
Teach us to reckon our days like this,
so that our hearts may be led at last to wisdom.
Turn to us, Lord, how long must we wait?
Let your servants call on you and be answered.
Fill us with your kindness in the morning,
and we shall rejoice and be glad all the days of our life.
Give us joy for as long as you afflicted us,
for all the years when we suffered.
Let your servants see your great works,
and let their children see your glory.
Let the glory of the Lord God be upon us:
make firm the work of your hands.
Make firm the work of your hands.
Glory be to the Father and to the Son
and to the Holy Spirit,
as it was in the beginning,
is now, and ever shall be,
world without end.
Amen.
Our years pass like grass; but you, God, are without beginning or end.
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