Joel 1
1 Herrens Ord, som kom til Joel, Petuels søn.
The word of Jehovah, which came to Joel, the son of Pethuel.
2 Hør dette, I Ældste, lån Øre, alle, som bor i Landet! Er sligt mon sket i eders eller eders Fædres Dage?
Hear this, ye old men; Give ear, all ye inhabitants of the land! Hath such a thing happened in your days, Or even in the days of your fathers?
3 I skal fortælle det til eders Børn, og de igen til deres, og deles til næste Slægt.
Tell ye your children of it, And let your children tell their children, And their children another generation!
4 Græshoppen åd, hvad Gnaveren levned, Springeren åd, hvad Græshoppen levned, Æderen åd, hvad Springeren levned.
That which the gnawing-locust left hath the swarming-locust eaten, And that which the swarming-locust left hath the licking-locust eaten, And that which the licking-locust left hath the consuming-locust eaten.
5 Vågn op, I drukne, og græd; enhver, som drikker Vin, skal jamre over Most, der gik tabt for eders. Mund.
Awake, ye drunkards, and weep! Howl, all ye drinkers of wine, For the new wine, which is snatched from your mouths!
6 Thi et Folk drog op mod mit Land, vældigt og uden Tal; dets Tænder er Løvetænder, det har Kindtænder som en Løvinde.
For a nation hath come up on my land, Strong, and not to be numbered; Their teeth are the teeth of the lion; They have the jaw-teeth of the lioness.
7 Det lagde min Vinstok øde, knækked mit Figentræ, afbarked og hærgede det; dets Grene stritter hvide.
They have made my vine a desolation, And my fig-tree a broken branch; They have made it quite bare and cast it away; The branches thereof are made white.
8 Klag som sørgeklædt Jomfru over sin Ungdoms Brudgom!
Lament ye, like a bride, Clothed in sackcloth for the husband of her youth!
9 Afgrødeoffer og Drikoffer gik tabt for HERRENs Hus; Præsterne, HERRENs Tjenere sørger.
The flour-offering and the drink-offering are cut off from the house of Jehovah; The priests, the servants of Jehovah mourn.
10 Marken er ødelagt, Jorden sørger; thi Kornet er ødelagt, Mosten slog fejl og Olien hentørres.
The field is laid waste; The ground mourneth, For the corn is laid waste; The new wine is dried up; The oil languisheth.
11 Bønder skuffes og Vingårdsmænd jamrer både over Hveden og Byggen; thi Markens Høst gik tabt;
Lament, O ye husbandmen, Howl, O ye vine-dressers, For the wheat and the barley, For the harvest of the field hath perished!
12 fejl slog Vinstokken, Figentræet tørres; Granatæble, Palme og æbletræ, hvert Markens Træ tørres hen. Ja, med Skam veg Glæde fra Menneskens Børn:
The vine is dried up, And the fig-tree languisheth; The pomegranate, the palm-tree, and the apple-tree, —All the trees of the field, are withered; Yea, joy is withered away from the sons of men.
13 Sørg, I Præster i Sæk, I AIterets Tjenere, jamrer! Gå ind og bær Sæk i Nat, I, som tjener min Gud! Thi Afgrødeoffer og Drikofer unddrages eders Guds Hus.
Gird yourselves with sackcloth and mourn, ye priests! Howl, ye ministers of the altar! Come, lie all night in sackcloth, ye ministers of my God, For the flour-offering and the drink-offering are withholden from the house of your God!
14 Helliger en Faste, udråb festlig Samling, I Ældste, kald alle, som bor i Landet, sammen til HERREN eders Guds Hus og råb så til HERREN!
Appoint ye a fast, proclaim a solemn assembly! Gather the elders and all the inhabitants of the land Into the house of Jehovah, your God, And cry unto Jehovah!
15 Ak, hvilken Dag! Thi nær er HERRENs Dag, den kommer som Vold fra den Vældige.
Alas, alas the day! For the day of Jehovah is near; Even as destruction from the Almighty doth it come.
16 Så vi ej Føden gå tabt, vor Guds Hus tømt for Glæde og Jubel?
Is not our food cut off from before our eyes, Yea, joy and gladness from the house of our God?
17 Sæden skrumper ind i den klumpede Jord; Lader er nedbrudt, Forrådshuse jævnet, thi Kornet er vissent.
The seeds are rotten under their clods, The storehouses are laid desolate, the garners are destroyed; For the corn is withered.
18 Hvor Kvæget dog stønner! Oksernes Hjorde er skræmte, fordi de ikke har Græs; selv Småkvægets Hjorde lider.
How do the beasts groan, How do the herds of oxen wander perplexed, Having no pasture! The flocks of sheep also are destroyed.
19 Jeg råber til dig, o HERRE; thi Ild har fortæret Ørkenens Græsning, og Luen afsved hvert Markens Træ;
To thee, O Jehovah, do I call, For a fire hath devoured the pastures of the desert, And a flame hath burned all the trees of the field!
20 til dig skriger selv Markens Dyr, thi Bækkenes Lejer er tørre, og Ild har fortæret Ørkenens Græsning.
The beasts of the field, also, cry unto thee, For the streams of water are dried up, And a fire hath devoured the pastures of the desert!
