Gott, führ mein Sach und richte mich

Here is my translation of the psalm paraphrase, “Gott, führ mein Sach und richte mich” (Cornelius Becker, d. 1604), based on Psalm XLIII, Judica me Deus, with melody assignment “Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott.” Note that Becker retains the “refrain” wording from the previous hymn (here the beginning of stanza 3), but perhaps because of the meter changes the ending; which I reflect here, borrowing from my own translation in the counterpart-hymn, “Like as a hart seeks hastily.” For centuries the psalm itself has been recognized as related to the foregoing psalm in some way. Vierling writes (Biblia, 739), “It is of the same thrust as the previous psalm, and almost of the same wording with it, for he also desires to go to the house of God through light and truth, that is, to be comforted with God’s Word in his despondency.”

 

JUDGE me, O God, and plead my cause,
Repel the godless nation,
From him who lies and breaks Thy laws,
Oh, bring me Thy salvation:
God, my strength and stay,
Cast me not away,
Let me not go e’er
In mourning and despair
Because my foe oppresseth!

2 O send Thy light of truth to me,
Lead me, Thy ways progressing,
To Thy dear church that worships Thee,
That I may have the blessing;
God, to Thee I come,
Of all joys the sum,
And will joyfully
Upon the harp praise Thee,
O God, my God most faithful!

3 Why art thou cast down, O my soul,
What can so restless make thee?
Hope thou in God and His control;
He never will forsake thee.
I shall yet Him praise
For His faithful ways;
He my God abides
And ever help provides
By His great grace and favor.

Translation © 2024 Matthew Carver.

GERMAN

GOtt, führ mein Sach und richte mich,
Die Unheilgen beſtreite,
Errette mich genädiglich,
Von falſchen böſen Leuten,
HErr mein Zuverſicht,
Verſtoß mich doch nicht,
Laß mich nicht hülffloß
In Schmertz und Trauren groß,
Wenn mich mein Feind bedränget.

2  Send mir das Licht der Wareit dein,
Zu gehn auff deinen Wegen,
Leit mich zur lieben Chriſten Gmein,
Daß ich empfah den Segen,
Und zu dir, HErr, kom,
Hab gros Frewd und Wonn,
So wil ich fröhlich
Auff Harffen loben dich,
O Gott, mein trewer HErre.

3  Was betrübſtu dich meine Seel,
Haſt Unruh früh und ſpate.
Harr nur auff Gott, allm Ungefell
Weis er gar wol zu rathen.
Zuletzt ich ihm noch
Werd danckſagen hoch,
Daß Er mein Gott iſt,
Mir hilfft zu aller Friſt
Durch ſeine groſſe Gnade.