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Psalm 83:13 - New International Version (Anglicised)

13 Make them like tumble-weed, my God, like chaff before the wind.

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Tuilleadh leaganacha

King James Version (Oxford) 1769

13 O my God, make them like a wheel; As the stubble before the wind.

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Amplified Bible - Classic Edition

13 O my God, make them like whirling dust, like stubble or chaff before the wind!

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American Standard Version (1901)

13 O my God, make them like the whirling dust; As stubble before the wind.

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Common English Bible

13 My God, make them like tumbleweeds, like chaff blown by wind.

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Catholic Public Domain Version

13 He will not withhold good things from those who walk in innocence. O Lord of hosts, blessed is the man who hopes in you.

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Psalm 83:13
15 Tagairtí Cros  

Will you torment a wind-blown leaf? Will you chase after dry chaff?


How often are they like straw before the wind, like chaff swept away by a gale?


My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, so far from my cries of anguish?


May they be like chaff before the wind, with the angel of the Lord driving them away;


You are my King and my God, who decrees victories for Jacob.


‘In the greatness of your majesty you threw down those who opposed you. You unleashed your burning anger; it consumed them like stubble.


No sooner are they planted, no sooner are they sown, no sooner do they take root in the ground, than he blows on them and they wither, and a whirlwind sweeps them away like chaff.


‘Who has stirred up one from the east, calling him in righteousness to his service? He hands nations over to him and subdues kings before him. He turns them to dust with his sword, to wind-blown chaff with his bow.


‘I will scatter you like chaff driven by the desert wind.


‘ “Because you have said, ‘These two nations and countries will be ours and we will take possession of them,’ even though I the Lord was there,


This is what the Sovereign Lord says: the enemy said of you, ‘Aha! The ancient heights have become our possession.’ ”


His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing-floor, gathering his wheat into the barn and burning up the chaff with unquenchable fire.’


Lean orainn:

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