Esajas 51
1 Hør mig, I, som jager efter Retfærd, som søger HERREN! Se til Klippen, I huggedes af, til Gruben, af hvilken I brødes,
Hearken unto me, Ye that pursue righteousness, Ye that seek Yahweh, —Look well unto the rock whence ye were hewn, And unto the quarry whence ye were digged:
2 se til eders Fader, Abraham, til Sara, der fødte eder: Da jeg kaldte ham, var han kun een, jeg velsigned ham, gjorde ham til mange.
Look well unto Abraham your father, And unto Sarah who gave you birth, —For he was, alone, when called I him, And, I blessed him that I might make him, many.
3 Thi HERREN trøster Zion, trøster alle dets Tomter, han gør dets Ørk som Eden, dets Ødemark som HERRENS Have; der skal findes Fryd og Glæde, Lovsang og Strengespil.
For Yahweh hath comforted Zion, He hath comforted all her waste places, And hath made her wilderness like Eden, And her waste plain like the garden of Yahweh, —Joy and gladness, shall be found in her, Thanksgiving, and the voice of melody.
4 I Folkeslag, lyt til mig, I Folkefærd, laan mig Øre! Thi Lov gaar ud fra mig, min Ret som Folkeslags Lys;
Attend unto me, O my people, And, O, my nation unto me give ear, —For, instruction, from me, shall go forth, And, my justice—for a light of peoples, will I establish:
5 min Retfærd nærmer sig hastigt, min Frelse oprinder, mine Arme bringer Folkeslag Ret; fjerne Strande bier paa mig og længes efter min Arm.
At hand is my righteousness. Gone forth hath my salvation, And, mine own arms, unto the peoples, shall give justice, —Upon me, Coastlands, shall wait, And for mine arm, shall they hope.
6 Løft eders Øjne mod Himlen og se paa Jorden hernede! Thi Himlen skal svinde som Røg, Jorden som en opslidt Klædning, dens Beboere skal dø som Myg. Men min Frelse varer evigt, min Retfærd ophører aldrig.
Lift up—to the heavens—your eyes, And look around to the earth beneath Though, the heavens, like smoke, should have vanished And, the earth, like a garment, should fall to pieces, And, her inhabitants, in like manner, should die, Yet, my salvation, unto times age-abiding, shall continue, And, my righteousness, shall not be broken down.
7 Hør mig, I, som kender Retfærd, du Folk med min Lov i dit Hjerte, frygt ej Menneskers Haan, vær ikke ræd for deres Spot!
Hearken unto me ye who discern righteousness, The people in whose heart is my law, —Do not fear the reproach of frail men, Nor at their revilings, be dismayed;
8 Som en Klædning skal Møl fortære dem, Orm fortære dem som Uld, men min Retfærd varer evigt, min Frelse fra Slægt til Slægt.
For like a garment, shall they be eaten of the moth, And like wool, shall they be eaten of the larva; But, my righteousness, unto times age-abiding shall continue, And, my salvation, unto the remotest generation.
9 Vaagn op, vaagn op, HERRENS Arm, og ifør dig Styrke, vaagn op som i henfarne Dage, i Urtidens Slægter! Mon du ej kløvede Rahab, gennembored Dragen,
Awake, awake put on strength, O arm of Yahweh, Awake, As in days of old, The generations of bygone ages: Art not thou that which—Hewed down Rahab, Piercing the Crocodile?
10 mon du ej udtørred Havet, Stordybets Vande, gjorde Havets dyb til en Vej, hvor de genløste gik?
Art not thou that which dried up—The Sea, The waters of the mighty Deep, —That which made of the abysses of the sea a road for the passing over of the redeemed?
11 HERRENS forløste vender hjem, de drager til Zion med Jubel med evig Glæde om Issen; Fryd og Glæde faar de, Sorg og Suk skal fly.
Therefore, the ransomed of Yahweh, shall again come unto Zion, with shouts of triumph, With gladness age-abiding on their head, —Joy, and gladness, shall overtake [them]. Sorrow and sighing have fled away.
12 Jeg, jeg er eders Trøster, hvem er da du, at du frygter dødelige, jordiske Mennesker, der bliver som Græs,
I—I, am he that comforteth you, —Who art, thou, that thou hast feared Frail man that dieth, and A son of the earthborn, who, as grass, shall be delivered up?
13 at du glemmer HERREN, din Skaber, der udspændte Himlen og grundfæsted Jorden, at du altid Dagen lang frygter for Undertrykkerens Vrede. Saa snart han vil til at lægge øde, hvor er da Undertrykkerens Vrede?
That thou hast forgotten Yahweh thy maker, Who stretched out the heavens And founded the earth? That thou hast dreaded continually, all the day, by reason of the fury of the oppressor, in that he was ready to destroy? Where then is the fury of the oppressor?
14 Snart skal den krumsluttede løses og ikke dø og synke i Graven eller mangle Brød,
The captive hath hastened to be loosed, —That he might not die in the pit. Neither should, his bread, be cut off.
15 saa sandt jeg er HERREN din Gud, som rører Havet, saa Bølgerne bruser, den, hvis Navn er Hærskarers HERRE.
But, I—Yahweh, am thy God, Who threw into commotion the sea And the waves thereof roared, —Yahweh of hosts, is his name.
16 jeg lægger mine Ord i din Mund og gemmer dig under min Haands Skygge for at udspænde Himmelen og grundfæste Jorden og sige til Zion: »Du er mit Folk.«
Therefore have I put my words in thy mouth, And with the shadow of my hand, have I covered thee, —To plant the heavens, and To lay the foundations of the earth, and To say unto Zion My people, thou art!
17 Vaagn op, vaagn op, staa op, Jerusalem, som af HERRENS Haand fik rakt hans Vredes Bæger og tømte den berusende Kalk til sidste Draabe.
Rouse thee—rouse, thee stand up, O Jerusalem, Who hast drunk, at the hand of Yahweh, his cup of indignation: The goblet-cup of confusion, hast thou drunk—hast thou drained.
18 Af alle de Børn, hun fødte, ledte hende ingen, af alle de Børn, hun fostred, greb ingen hendes Haand.
There is none to guide her, Among all the sons she hath borne, —There is none to grasp her hand, Among all the sons she hath brought up.
19 To Ting timedes dig — hvo ynker dig vel? Vold og Vaade, Hunger og Sværd — hvo trøster dig?
Twain, are the things befalling thee, Who will lament for thee? Wasting and destruction and famine and sword By whom shall I comfort thee?
20 Ved alle Gadehjørner laa dine Sønner i Afmagt som i Garn Antiloper, fyldte med HERRENS Vrede, med Trusler fra din Gud.
Thy sons, have fainted, They lie at the head of all the streets like a gazelle in a net, —Who, indeed, are full of The indignation of Yahweh The rebuke of thy God.
21 Hør derfor, du arme, drukken, men ikke af Vin:
Therefore, hear, I pray thee, this, thou humbled one, —And drunken but not with wine: —
22 Saa siger din Herre, HERREN, din Gud, der strider for sit Folk: Se, jeg tager den berusende Kalk fra din Haand, aldrig mer skal du drikke min Vredes Bæger;
Thus, saith Thy Lord, Yahweh, Even thy God who pleadeth the cause of his people: —Lo! I have taken, out of thy hand, the cup of confusion, —As for the goblet-cup of mine indignation, Thou shalt not again drink it, any more;
23 og jeg rækker det til dine Plagere, dem, som bød dig: »Bøj dig, saa vi kan gaa over!« og du gjorde din Ryg til Gulv, til Gade for Vandringsmænd.
But I will put it into the hand of thy tormentors, Who said to thy soul, Bow down that we may pass over, —And so thou didst place as the ground, thy back, Yea as the street to such as were passing along.
