Habakkuk 3
1 (En Bøn af Profeten Hahakkuk. Al-sjigjonot.)
A prayer of Habakkuk, the prophet, set to victorious music.
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!
Yahweh, I have heard of your fame. I stand in awe of your deeds, Yahweh. Renew your work in the middle of the years. In the middle of the years make it known. In wrath, you 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, the Holy One from Mount Paran. (Selah) His glory covered the heavens, and his praise filled the earth.
4 Under ham er Glans som Ild, fra hans Side udgår Stråler; der er hans Vælde i Skjul.
His splendor is like the sunrise. Rays shine from his hand, where his power is hidden.
5 Foran ham vandrer Pest, og efter ham følger Sot.
Plague went before him, and pestilence followed 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 shook the earth. He looked, and made the nations tremble. The ancient mountains were crumbled. The age-old hills collapsed. His ways are eternal.
7 Kusjans Telte bæver, Telttæpperne i Midjans Land.
I saw the tents of Cushan in affliction. The dwellings of the land of Midian trembled.
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 Yahweh displeased with the rivers? Was your anger against the rivers, or your wrath against the sea, that you rode on your horses, on your chariots of salvation?
9 Din Bue kom blottet til Syne, din Buestreng mætter du med Pile. (Sela) Du kløver Jorden i Strømme,
You uncovered your bow. You called for your sworn arrows. (Selah) You split the earth with rivers.
10 Bjergene ser dig og skælver. Skyerne nedsender Regnskyl, og Afgrunden løfter sin Røst.
The mountains saw you, and were afraid. The storm of waters passed by. The deep roared and 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 the sky at the light of your arrows as they went, at the shining of your glittering spear.
12 I Harme skrider du hen over Jorden, du nedtramper Folk i Vrede.
You marched through the land in wrath. You threshed 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)
You went out for the salvation of your people, for the salvation of your anointed. You crushed the head of the land of wickedness. You stripped them head to foot. (Selah)
14 Med dit Spyd gennemborer du hans Hoved, bans Høvdinger splittes.
You pierced the heads of his warriors with their own spears. They came as a whirlwind to scatter me, gloating as if to devour the wretched in secret.
15 Du tramper hans Heste i Havet, i de mange Vandes Dynd.
You trampled the sea with your horses, churning mighty 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 body trembled. My lips quivered at the voice. Rottenness enters into my bones, and I tremble in my place because I must wait quietly for the day of trouble, for the coming up of the people who invade us.
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 even though the fig tree doesn’t flourish, nor fruit be in the vines, the labor of the olive fails, the fields yield no food, the flocks are cut off from the fold, and there is no herd in the stalls,
18 Men jeg vil frydes i HERREN, juble i min Frelses Gud.
yet I will rejoice in Yahweh. I will be joyful 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.
Yahweh, the Lord, is my strength. He makes my feet like deer’s feet, and enables me to go in high places. For the music director, on my stringed instruments.
