Habakkuk 3
1 A PRAYER OF HABACUC THE PROPHET FOR IGNORANCES.
En Bøn af Profeten Habakkuk. Al-sjigjonot.
2 O Lord, I have heard thy hearing, and was afraid. O Lord, thy work, in the midst of the years bring it to life: In the midst of the years thou shalt make it known: when thou art angry, thou wilt 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 will come from the south, and the holy one from mount Pharan: His glory covered the heavens, and the earth is full of his praise.
Gud drager frem fra Teman, den Hellige fra Parans Bjerge. (Sela) Hans Højhed skjuler Himlen, hans Herlighed fylder Jorden.
4 His brightness shall be as the light; horns are in his hands: There is his strength hid:
Under ham er Glans som Ild, fra hans Side udgaar Straaler; der er hans Vælde i Skjul.
5 Death shall go before his face. And the devil shall go forth before his feet.
Foran ham vandrer Pest, og efter ham følger Sot.
6 He stood and measured the earth. He beheld, and melted the nations: and the ancient mountains were crushed to pieces. The hills of the world were bowed down by the journeys of his eternity.
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 Ethiopia for their iniquity, the curtains of the land of Madian shall be troubled.
Kusjans Telte bæver, Telttæpperne i Midjans Land.
8 Wast thou angry, O Lord, with the rivers? or was thy wrath upon the rivers? or thy indignation in the sea? Who will ride upon thy horses: and thy chariots are 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 Thou wilt surely take up thy bow: according to the oaths which thou hast spoken to the tribes. Thou wilt divide the rivers of the earth.
Din Bue kom blottet til Syne, din Buestreng mætter du med Pile. (Sela) Du kløver Jorden i Strømme,
10 The mountains saw thee, and were grieved: the great body of waters passed away. The deep put forth its voice: the deep lifted up its hands.
Bjergene ser dig og skælver. Skyerne nedsender Regnskyl, og Afgrunden løfter sin Røst.
11 The sun and the moon stood still in their habitation, in the light of thy arrows, they shall go in the brightness of thy glittering 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 In thy anger thou wilt tread the earth under foot: in thy wrath thou wilt astonish the nations.
I Harme skrider du hen over Jorden, du nedtramper Folk i Vrede.
13 Thou wentest forth for the salvation of thy people: for salvation with thy Christ. Thou struckest the head of the house of the wicked: thou hast laid bare his foundation even to the neck.
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 Thou hast cursed his sceptres, the head of his warriors, them that came out as a whirlwind to scatter me. Their joy was like that of him that devoureth the poor man in secret.
Med dit Spyd gennemborer du hans Hoved, hans Høvdinger splittes.
15 Thou madest a way in the sea for thy horses, in the mud of many waters.
Du tramper hans Heste i Havet, i de mange Vandes Dynd.
16 I have heard and my bowels were troubled: my lips trembled at the voice. Let rottenness enter into my bones, and swarm under me. That I may rest in the day of tribulation: that I may go up to our people that are girded.
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 For the fig tree shall not blossom: and there shall be no spring 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.
Thi Figentræet blomstrer ikke, Vinstokken giver intet, Olietræets Afgrøde svigter, Markerne giver ej Føde. Faarene svandt af Folden, i Staldene findes ej Okser.
18 But I will rejoice in the Lord: and I will joy in God my Jesus.
Men jeg vil frydes i HERREN, juble i min Frelses Gud.
19 The Lord God is my strength: and he will make my feet like the feet of harts: and he the conqueror will lead me upon my high places singing psalms.
Den Herre HERREN er min Styrke, han gør mine Fødder som Hindens og lader mig gaa paa mine Høje. Til Sangmesteren. Med Strengespil.
