Habakkuk 3
1 (En Bøn af Profeten Hahakkuk. Al-sjigjonot.)
A Prayer of Habakkuk the prophet upon Shigionoth.
2 HERRE, jeg har hørt dit Ry, jeg har skuet din Gerning, HERRE. Fuldbyrd det i Årenes Løb, åbenbar dig i Årenes Løb, kom Barmhjertighed i Hu under Vreden!
Jehovah, I heard the report of thee, [and] I feared. Jehovah, revive thy work in the midst of the years, In the midst of the years make [it] known: In wrath remember mercy!
3 Gud drager frem fra Teman, den Hellige fra Parans Bjerge. (Sela) Hans Højhed skjuler Himlen, hans Herlighed fylder Jorden.
God came from Teman, And the Holy One from mount Paran. (Selah) His glory covereth the heavens, And the earth is full of his praise.
4 Under ham er Glans som Ild, fra hans Side udgår Stråler; der er hans Vælde i Skjul.
And [his] brightness was as the light; Rays [came forth] from his hand; And there was the hiding of his power.
5 Foran ham vandrer Pest, og efter ham følger Sot.
Before him went the pestilence, And a burning flame went forth at his feet.
6 Hans Fjed får Jorden til at skælve, hans Blik får Folk til at bæve. De ældgamle Bjerge brister, de evige Høje synker, ad evige Stier går han.
He stood, and measured the earth; He beheld, and discomfited the nations; And the eternal mountains were scattered, The everlasting hills gave way: His ways are everlasting.
7 Kusjans Telte bæver, Telttæpperne i Midjans Land.
I saw the tents of Cushan in affliction; The curtains of the land of Midian did tremble.
8 Er HERREN da vred på Strømmene, gælder din Vrede Strømmene, gælder din Harme Havet, siden du farer frem på dine Heste og dine Vogne drøner.
Was Jehovah wrathful with the rivers? Was thine anger against the rivers? Was thy rage against the sea, That thou didst ride upon thy horses, Thy chariots of salvation?
9 Din Bue kom blottet til Syne, din Buestreng mætter du med Pile. (Sela) Du kløver Jorden i Strømme,
Thy bow was made naked, The rods [of discipline] sworn according to [thy] word. (Selah) Thou didst cleave the earth with rivers.
10 Bjergene ser dig og skælver. Skyerne nedsender Regnskyl, og Afgrunden løfter sin Røst.
The mountains saw thee, they were in travail: Torrents of waters passed by; The deep uttered its voice, Lifted up its hands on high.
11 Solen glemmer at stå op, Månen bliver i sit Bo; de flygter for Skinnet af dine Pile, for Glansen af dit lynende Spyd.
The sun [and] moon stood still in their habitation, At the light of thine arrows which shot forth, — At the shining of thy glittering spear.
12 I Harme skrider du hen over Jorden, du nedtramper Folk i Vrede.
Thou didst march through the land in indignation, Thou didst thresh the nations in anger.
13 Du drager ud til Frelse for dit Folk, ud for at frelse din Salvede. Du knuser den gudløses Hustag, blotter Grunden til Klippen. (Sela)
Thou wentest forth for the salvation of thy people, For the salvation of thine anointed; Thou didst smite off the head from the house of the wicked, Laying bare the foundation even to the neck. (Selah)
14 Med dit Spyd gennemborer du hans Hoved, bans Høvdinger splittes.
Thou didst strike through with his own spears the head of his leaders: They came out as a whirlwind to scatter me, Whose exulting was as to devour the afflicted secretly.
15 Du tramper hans Heste i Havet, i de mange Vandes Dynd.
Thou didst walk through the sea with thy horses, The heap of great waters.
16 Jeg hørte det; da bæved min Krop, ved Braget skjalv mine Læber; Edder for i mine Ben, og under mig vakled mine Skridt. Jeg bier på Trængselens Dag over Folket, som volder os Krig.
I heard, and my belly trembled; My lips quivered at the voice; Rottenness entered into my bones, and I trembled in my place, That I might rest in the day of distress, When their invader shall come up against the people.
17 Thi Figentræet blomstrer ikke, Vinstokken giver intet, Olietræets Afgrøde svigter, Markerne giver ej Føde. Fårene svandt af Folden, i Staldene findes ej Okser.
For though the fig-tree shall not blossom, Neither shall fruit be in the vines; The labour of the olive-tree 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 frydes i HERREN, juble i min Frelses Gud.
Yet I will rejoice in Jehovah, I will joy in the God of my salvation.
19 Den Herre HERREN er min Styrke, han gør mine Fødder som Hindens og lader mig gå på mine Høje. Til Sangmesteren. Med Strengespil.
Jehovah, the Lord, is my strength, And he maketh my feet like hinds' [feet], And he will make me to walk upon my high places. To the chief Musician. On my stringed instruments.
