Habakkuk 3
1 En Bøn af Profeten Habakuk; efter Sigjonoth.
A prayer of Habakkuk the prophet. Upon Shigionoth.
2 Herre! jeg har hørt Tidenden om dig, jeg frygter; Herre! din Gerning, kald den til Live midt i Aarene, midt i Aarene kundgøre du den; i Vrede komme du i Hu at være barmhjertig!
O LORD, I have heard the report of Thee, and am afraid; O LORD, revive Thy work in the midst of the years, in the midst of the years make it known; in wrath remember compassion.
3 Gud kommer fra Theman og den Hellige fra Parans Bjerg. (Sela) Hans Majestæt bedækker Himmelen, og af hans Herlighed fyldes Jorden.
God cometh from Teman, and the Holy One from mount Paran. (Selah) His glory covereth the heavens, and the earth is full of His praise.
4 Og en Glans som Lyset bryder frem, Straaler har han til Siden, og der skjuler han sin Magt.
And a brightness appeareth as the light; rays hath He at His side; and there is the hiding of His power.
5 Foran ham gaar Pesten, og efter ham udgaar dræbende Sot.
Before him goeth the pestilence, and fiery bolts go forth at His feet.
6 Han træder frem og bringer Jorden til at ryste, han ser til og bringer Folkene til at skælve, og de evige Bjerge briste, de ældgamle Høje synke; hans Tog ere som i fordums Tid.
He standeth, and shaketh the earth, He beholdeth, and maketh the nations to tremble; and the everlasting mountains are dashed in pieces, the ancient hills do bow; His goings are as of old.
7 Jeg ser Kusans Telte i Vaande, Telttæpperne i Midians Land ryste.
I see the tents of Cushan in affliction; the curtains of the land of Midian do tremble.
8 Er vel din Vrede, o Herre! optændt imod Floderne? din Vrede imod Floderne og din Harme imod Havet? at du saa farer frem paa dine Heste, paa dine Vogne til Frelse.
Is it, O LORD, that against the rivers, is it that Thine anger is kindled against the rivers, or Thy wrath against the sea? that Thou dost ride upon Thy horses, upon Thy chariots of victory?
9 Din blottede Bue tages frem, med Ed stadfæstede ved Ordet ere Straffens Ris. (Sela) I Strømme kløver du Jorden.
Thy bow is made quite bare; sworn are the rods of the word. (Selah) Thou dost cleave the earth with rivers.
10 Bjerge se dig, de skælve; Vandstrømme styrte ned, Afgrunden hæver sin Røst, den opløfter sine Hænder imod det høje.
The mountains have seen Thee, and they tremble; the tempest of waters floweth over; the deep uttereth its voice, and lifteth up its hands on high.
11 Sol og Maane træde tilbage i deres Bolig for Lyset af dine Pile, som fare frem, for Glansen af dit Spyds Lyn.
The sun and moon stand still in their habitation; at the light of Thine arrows as they go, at the shining of Thy glittering spear.
12 I Fortørnelse skrider du frem paa Jorden, i Vrede nedtræder du Hedningerne.
Thou marchest through the earth in indignation, Thou threshest the nations in anger.
13 Du er dragen ud til dit Folks Frelse, til din Salvedes Frelse; du knuser Hovedet af den ugudeliges Hus, idet du blotter Grundvolden op til Halsen. (Sela)
Thou art come forth for the deliverance of Thy people, for the deliverance of Thine anointed; Thou woundest the head out of the house of the wicked, uncovering the foundation even unto the neck. (Selah)
14 Du gennemborer ved hans Spyd Hovederne paa hans Skarer, som storme frem for at adsprede mig, og hvis Glæde var som til at æde den elendige i Skjul.
Thou hast stricken through with his own rods the head of his rulers, that come as a whirlwind to scatter me; whose rejoicing is as to devour the poor secretly.
15 Du drager igennem Havet paa dine Heste, igennem de mange Vandes Hob.
Thou hast trodden the sea with Thy horses, the foaming of mighty waters.
16 Jeg har hørt det, og mit Indre bævede, ved Røsten dirrede mine Læber, der kommer Skørhed i mine Ben, og jeg ryster, hvor jeg staar, fordi jeg skal være rolig til Nødens Dag, indtil han, som med en Skare skal angribe Folket, drager op imod det.
When I heard, mine inward parts trembled, my lips quivered at the voice; rottenness entereth into my bones, and I tremble where I stand; that I should wait for the day of trouble, when he cometh up against the people that he invadeth.
17 Thi Figentræet skal ikke blomstre, og der er ingen Afgrøde paa Vintræerne, Olietræets Frugt slaar fejl, og Markerne give ikke Spise; Faarene ere revne bort fra Folden, og der er ingen Øksne i Staldene.
For though the fig-tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines; the labour of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall yield no food; the flock shall be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no herd in the stalls;
18 Men jeg vil glæde mig i Herren; jeg vil fryde mig i min Frelses Gud.
Yet I will rejoice in the LORD, I will exult in the God of my salvation.
19 Den Herre, Herre er min Styrke, og han gør mine Fødder som Hindernes og lader mig skride frem over mine Høje. Til Sangmesteren; med min Strengeleg.
God, the Lord, is my strength, and He maketh my feet like hinds' feet, and He maketh me to walk upon my high places. For the Leader. With my string-music.
