Habakkuk 3
1 This is a prayer of Habakkuk the prophet, according to Shigionoth:
En Bøn af Profeten Habakkuk. Al-sjigjonot.
2 O LORD, I have heard the report of You; I stand in awe, O LORD, of Your deeds. Revive them in these years; make them known in these years. In Your wrath, remember mercy!
HERRE, jeg har hørt dit Ry, jeg har skuet din Gerning, HERRE. Fuldbyrd det i Aarenes Løb, aabenbar dig i Aarenes Løb, kom Barmhjertighed i Hu under Vreden!
3 God came from Teman, and the Holy One from Mount Paran. (Selah) His glory covered the heavens, and His praise filled the earth.
Gud drager frem fra Teman, den Hellige fra Parans Bjerge. (Sela) Hans Højhed skjuler Himlen, hans Herlighed fylder Jorden.
4 His radiance was like the sunlight; rays flashed from His hand, where His power is hidden.
Under ham er Glans som Ild, fra hans Side udgaar Straaler; der er hans Vælde i Skjul.
5 Plague went before Him, and fever followed in His steps.
Foran ham vandrer Pest, og efter ham følger Sot.
6 He stood and measured the earth; He looked and startled the nations; the ancient mountains crumbled; the perpetual hills collapsed. His ways are everlasting.
Hans Fjed faar Jorden til at skælve, hans Blik faar Folk til at bæve. De ældgamle Bjerge brister, de evige Høje synker, ad evige Stier gaar han.
7 I saw the tents of Cushan in distress; the curtains of Midian were trembling.
Kusjans Telte bæver, Telttæpperne i Midjans Land.
8 Were You angry at the rivers, O LORD? Was Your wrath against the streams? Did You rage against the sea when You rode on Your horses, on Your chariots of salvation?
Er HERREN da vred paa Strømmene, gælder din Vrede Strømmene, gælder din Harme Havet, siden du farer frem paa dine Heste og dine Vogne drøner.
9 You brandished Your bow; You called for many arrows. (Selah) You split the earth with rivers.
Din Bue kom blottet til Syne, din Buestreng mætter du med Pile. (Sela) Du kløver Jorden i Strømme,
10 The mountains saw You and quaked; torrents of water swept by. The deep roared with its voice and lifted its hands on high.
Bjergene ser dig og skælver. Skyerne nedsender Regnskyl, og Afgrunden løfter sin Røst.
11 Sun and moon stood still in their places at the flash of Your flying arrows, at the brightness of Your shining spear.
Solen glemmer at staa op, Maanen bliver i sit Bo; de flygter for Skinnet af dine Pile, for Glansen af dit lynende Spyd.
12 You marched across the earth with fury; You threshed the nations in wrath.
I Harme skrider du hen over Jorden, du nedtramper Folk i Vrede.
13 You went forth for the salvation of Your people, to save Your anointed. You crushed the head of the house of the wicked and stripped him from head to toe.
Du drager ud til Frelse for dit Folk, ud for at frelse din Salvede. Du knuser den gudløses Hustag, blotter Grunden til Klippen. (Sela)
14 With his own spear You pierced his head, when his warriors stormed out to scatter us, gloating as though ready to secretly devour the weak.
Med dit Spyd gennemborer du hans Hoved, hans Høvdinger splittes.
15 You trampled the sea with Your horses, churning the great waters.
Du tramper hans Heste i Havet, i de mange Vandes Dynd.
16 I heard and trembled within; my lips quivered at the sound. Decay entered my bones; I trembled where I stood. Yet I must wait patiently for the day of distress to come upon the people who invade us.
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 paa Trængselens Dag over Folket, som volder os Krig.
17 Though the fig tree does not bud and no fruit is on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though the sheep are cut off from the fold and no cattle are in the stalls,
Thi Figentræet blomstrer ikke, Vinstokken giver intet, Olietræets Afgrøde svigter, Markerne giver ej Føde. Faarene svandt af Folden, i Staldene findes ej Okser.
18 yet I will exult in the LORD; I will rejoice in the God of my salvation!
Men jeg vil frydes i HERREN, juble i min Frelses Gud.
19 GOD the Lord is my strength; He makes my feet like those of a deer; He makes me walk upon the heights!
Den Herre HERREN er min Styrke, han gør mine Fødder som Hindens og lader mig gaa paa mine Høje. Til Sangmesteren. Med Strengespil.
