Nahum 3
1 Ve Byen, der drypper af Blod, hvor der kun tales Løgn, saa fuld af Ran, med Rov uden Ende!
A curse is on the town of blood; it is full of deceit and violent acts; and there is no end to the taking of life.
2 Hør Smæld og raslende Vogne, jagende Heste,
The noise of the whip, and the noise of thundering wheels; horses rushing and war-carriages jumping,
3 Stridsvognenes vilde Dans og stejlende Heste! Sværdblink og lynende Spyd, faldne i Mængde, Masser af døde, endeløse Dynger af Lig, man snubler over Lig!
Horsemen driving forward, and the shining sword and the bright spear: and a great number of wounded, and masses of dead bodies; they are falling over the bodies of the dead:
4 For Skøgens vidt drevne Utugt, den fagre, udlært i Trolddom, som besnærede Folk ved Utugt, Stammer ved Trolddom,
Because of all the false ways of the loose woman, expert in attraction and wise in secret arts, who takes nations in the net of her false ways, and families through her secret arts.
5 kommer jeg over dig, lyder det fra Hærskarers HERRE; dit Slæb slaar jeg op i Ansigtet paa dig, lader Folkeslag se din Blusel, Riger din Skam,
See, I am against you, says the Lord of armies, and I will have your skirts pulled over your face, and let the nations see you unclothed, and the kingdoms your shame.
6 dænger dig til med Skarn og vanærer dig, ja sætter dig i Gabestok.
I will make you completely disgusting and full of shame, and will put you up to be looked at by all.
7 Enhver, som faar dig at se, skal fly fra dig og sige: »Nineve er ødelagt, hvem vil ynke det, hvor skal jeg hente en til at give det Trøst?«
And it will come about that all who see you will go in flight from you and say, Nineveh is made waste: who will be weeping for her? where am I to get comforters for her?
8 Mon du er bedre end No-Amon, der laa ved Strømme, omgivet af Vand som Bolværk, med Vand til Mur?
Are you better than No-amon, seated on the Nile streams, with waters all round her; whose wall was the sea and her earthwork the waters?
9 Dets Styrke var Ætiopere og Ægyptere uden Tal; Put og Libyer kom det til Hjælp.
Ethiopia was her strength and Egyptians without number; Put and Lubim were her helpers.
10 Dog førtes det bort, i Fangenskab maatte det vandre, paa alle Gadehjørner knustes ogsaa dets spæde; og om dets ædle kastedes Lod, alle dets Stormænd lagdes i Lænker.
But even she has been taken away, she has gone away as a prisoner: even her young children are smashed to bits at the top of all the streets: the fate of her honoured men is put to the decision of chance, and all her great men are put in chains.
11 Ogsaa du skal drikke og synke i Afmagt, ogsaa du skal søge i Ly for Fjenden.
And you will be overcome with wine, you will become feeble; you will be looking for a safe place from those who are fighting against you.
12 Alle dine Fæstninger er Figener og tidligmoden Frugt; naar de rystes, falder de den spisende i Munden.
All your walled places will be like fig-trees and your people like the first figs, falling at a shake into the mouth which is open for them.
13 Se, Folket i dig er som Kvinder, vidaabne for Fjenden er Portene ind til dit Land, Ild fortæred dine Slaaer.
See, the people who are in you are women; the doorways of your land are wide open to your attackers: the locks of your doors have been burned away in the fire.
14 Øs Vand til Brug, naar du omringes, styrk dine Fæstninger, træd Dynd, stamp Ler, tag fat paa Teglstensformen.
Get water for the time when you are shut in, make strong your towns: go into the potter's earth, stamping it down with your feet, make strong the brickworks.
15 Ild skal fortære dig paa Stedet. Sværd udrydde dig, fortære dig som Springere. Er du end talrig som Springere, talrig som Græshopper,
There the fire will make you waste; you will be cut off by the sword: make yourself as great in number as the worms, as great in number as the locusts.
16 er end dine Købmænd flere end Himlens Stjerner — Græshoppen kaster sin Vingeskal og flyver!
Let your traders be increased more than the stars of heaven:
17 Dine Fogeder er som Græshopper, dine Tipsarer som Græshoppesværme; de lejrer sig i Hegn, naar Dagen er sval; men naar Solen staar op, er de borte, man ved ej hvor.
Your crowned ones are like the locusts, and your scribes like the clouds of insects which take cover in the walls on a cold day, but when the sun comes up they go in flight, and are seen no longer in their place.
18 Hvor sov dine Hyrder fast, du Assurs Konge! Dine Helte blunded; dit Folk er spredt paa Bjergene, ingen samler dem.
Sorrow! how are the keepers of your flock sleeping, O king of Assyria! your strong men are at rest; your people are wandering on the mountains, and there is no one to get them together.
19 Ulægeligt er dit Brud, dit Saar er til Døden. Alle, som hører om dig, klapper i Haand; thi hvem fik ikke din Ondskab stadig at føle?
Your pain may not be made better; you are wounded to death: all those hearing the news about you will be waving their hands in joy over you: for who has not undergone the weight of your evil-doing again and again?
