Nahum 3
1 Woe to thee, O city of blood, all full of lies and violence: rapine shall not depart from thee.
Ve Byen, der drypper af Blod, hvor der kun tales Løgn, saa fuld af Ran, med Rov uden Ende!
2 The noise of the whip, and the noise of the rattling of the wheels, and of the neighing horse, and of the running chariot, and of the horsemen coming up,
Hør Smæld og raslende Vogne, jagende Heste,
3 And of the shining sword, and of the glittering spear, and of a multitude slain, and of a grievous destruction: and there is no end of carcasses, and they shall fall down on their dead bodies.
Stridsvognenes vilde Dans og stejlende Heste! Sværdblink og lynende Spyd, faldne i Mængde, Masser af døde, endeløse Dynger af Lig, man snubler over Lig!
4 Because of the multitude of the fornications of the harlot that was beautiful and agreeable, and that made use of witchcraft, that sold nations through her fornications, and families through her witchcrafts.
For Skøgens vidt drevne Utugt, den fagre, udlært i Trolddom, som besnærede Folk ved Utugt, Stammer ved Trolddom,
5 Behold I come against thee, saith the Lord of hosts: and I will discover thy shame to thy face, and will shew thy nakedness to the nations, and thy shame to kingdoms.
kommer jeg over dig, lyder det fra Hærskarers HERRE; dit Slæb slaar jeg op i Ansigtet paa dig, lader Folkeslag se din Blusel, Riger din Skam,
6 And I will cast abominations upon thee, and will disgrace thee, and will make an example of thee.
dænger dig til med Skarn og vanærer dig, ja sætter dig i Gabestok.
7 And it shall come to pass that every one that shall see thee, shall flee from thee, and shall say: Ninive is laid waste: who shall bemoan thee? whence shall I seek a comforter for thee?
Enhver, som faar dig at se, skal fly fra dig og sige: »Nineve er ødelagt, hvem vil ynke det, hvor skal jeg hente en til at give det Trøst?«
8 Art thou better than the populous Alexandria, that dwelleth among the rivers? waters are round about it: the sea is its riches, the waters are its walls.
Mon du er bedre end No-Amon, der laa ved Strømme, omgivet af Vand som Bolværk, med Vand til Mur?
9 Ethiopia and Egypt were the strength thereof, and there is no end: Africa and the Libyans were thy helpers.
Dets Styrke var Ætiopere og Ægyptere uden Tal; Put og Libyer kom det til Hjælp.
10 Yet she also was removed and carried into captivity: her young children were dashed in pieces at the top of every street, and they cast lots upon her nobles, and all her great men were bound in fetters.
Dog førtes det bort, i Fangenskab maatte det vandre, paa alle Gadehjørner knustes ogsaa dets spæde; og om dets ædle kastedes Lod, alle dets Stormænd lagdes i Lænker.
11 Therefore thou also shalt be made drunk, and shalt be despised: and thou shalt seek help from the enemy.
Ogsaa du skal drikke og synke i Afmagt, ogsaa du skal søge i Ly for Fjenden.
12 All thy strong holds shall be like fig trees with their green figs: if they be shaken, they shall fall into the mouth of the eater.
Alle dine Fæstninger er Figener og tidligmoden Frugt; naar de rystes, falder de den spisende i Munden.
13 Behold thy people in the midst of thee are women: the gates of thy land shall be set wide open to thy enemies, the fire shall devour thy bars.
Se, Folket i dig er som Kvinder, vidaabne for Fjenden er Portene ind til dit Land, Ild fortæred dine Slaaer.
14 Draw thee water for the siege, build up thy bulwarks: go into the clay, and tread, work it and make brick.
Øs Vand til Brug, naar du omringes, styrk dine Fæstninger, træd Dynd, stamp Ler, tag fat paa Teglstensformen.
15 There shall the fire devour thee: thou shalt perish by the sword, it shall devour thee like the bruchus: assemble together like the bruchus, make thyself many like the locust.
Ild skal fortære dig paa Stedet. Sværd udrydde dig, fortære dig som Springere. Er du end talrig som Springere, talrig som Græshopper,
16 Thou hast multiplied thy merchandises above the stars of heaven: the bruchus hath spread himself and flown away.
er end dine Købmænd flere end Himlens Stjerner — Græshoppen kaster sin Vingeskal og flyver!
17 Thy guards are like the locusts: and thy little ones like the locusts of locusts which swarm on the hedges in the day of cold: the sun arose, and they flew away, and their place was not known where they were.
Dine Fogeder er som Græshopper, dine Tipsarer som Græshoppesværme; de lejrer sig i Hegn, naar Dagen er sval; men naar Solen staar op, er de borte, man ved ej hvor.
18 Thy shepherds have slumbered, O king of Assyria, thy princes shall be buried: thy people are hid in the mountains, and there is none to gather them together.
Hvor sov dine Hyrder fast, du Assurs Konge! Dine Helte blunded; dit Folk er spredt paa Bjergene, ingen samler dem.
19 Thy destruction is not hidden, thy wound is grievous: all that have heard the fame of thee, have clapped their hands over thee: for upon whom hath not thy wickedness passed continually?
Ulægeligt er dit Brud, dit Saar er til Døden. Alle, som hører om dig, klapper i Haand; thi hvem fik ikke din Ondskab stadig at føle?
