Habakkuk 3
1 A prayer of Habakkuk the Prophet for the ignorances.
En Bøn af Profeten Habakkuk. Al-sjigjonot.
2 O Lord, I haue heard thy voyce, and was afraide: O Lord, reuiue thy worke in the mids of the people, in the mids of the yeeres make it knowen: in 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 commeth from Teman, and the holy one from mount Paran, (Selah) His glory couereth the heauens, and the earth is full of his prayse,
Gud drager frem fra Teman, den Hellige fra Parans Bjerge. (Sela) Hans Højhed skjuler Himlen, hans Herlighed fylder Jorden.
4 And his brightnes was as the light: he had hornes comming out of his hands, and there was the hiding of his power.
Under ham er Glans som Ild, fra hans Side udgaar Straaler; der er hans Vælde i Skjul.
5 Before him went the pestilence, and burning coales went forth before his feete.
Foran ham vandrer Pest, og efter ham følger Sot.
6 He stoode and measured the earth: he behelde and dissolued the nations and the euerlasting mountaines were broken, and the ancient hilles did bowe: his wayes are euerlasting.
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 For his iniquitie I sawe the tentes of Cushan, and the curtaines of the land of Midian did tremble.
Kusjans Telte bæver, Telttæpperne i Midjans Land.
8 Was the Lord angry against the riuers? or was thine anger against the floods? or was thy wrath against the sea, that thou diddest ride vpon thine horses? thy charets brought saluation.
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 Thy bowe was manifestly reueiled, and the othes of the tribes were a sure worde, (Selah) thou diddest cleaue the earth with riuers.
Din Bue kom blottet til Syne, din Buestreng mætter du med Pile. (Sela) Du kløver Jorden i Strømme,
10 The mountaines sawe thee, and they trembled: the streame of the water passed by: the deepe made a noyse, and lift vp his hand on hie.
Bjergene ser dig og skælver. Skyerne nedsender Regnskyl, og Afgrunden løfter sin Røst.
11 The sunne and moone stood still in their habitation: at the light of thine arrowes they went, and at the bright shining of thy speares.
Solen glemmer at staa op, Maanen bliver i sit Bo; de flygter for Skinnet af dine Pile, for Glansen af dit lynende Spyd.
12 Thou trodest downe the land in anger, and didest thresh the heathen in displeasure.
I Harme skrider du hen over Jorden, du nedtramper Folk i Vrede.
13 Thou wentest foorth for the saluation of thy people, euen for saluation with thine Anointed: thou hast wounded the head of the house of the wicked, and discoueredst the foundations vnto the necke, (Selah)
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 didest strike thorowe with his owne staues the heades of his villages: they came out as a whirle winde to scatter me: their reioycing was as to deuoure the poore secretly.
Med dit Spyd gennemborer du hans Hoved, hans Høvdinger splittes.
15 Thou didest walke in the sea with thine horses vpon the heape of great waters.
Du tramper hans Heste i Havet, i de mange Vandes Dynd.
16 When I heard, my bellie trembled: my lippes shooke at the voyce: rottennesse entred into my bones, and I trembled in my selfe, that I might rest in the day of trouble: for whe he commeth vp vnto the people, he shall destroy them.
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 figtree shall not flourish, neither shall fruite be in the vines: the labour of the oliue shall faile, and the fieldes shall yeelde no meate: the sheepe shalbe cut off from the folde, and there shalbe no bullocke in the stalles.
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 reioyce in the Lord: I will ioy in the God of my saluation.
Men jeg vil frydes i HERREN, juble i min Frelses Gud.
19 The Lord God is my strength: hee will make my feete like hindes feete, and he will make me to walke vpon mine hie places. To the chiefe singer on Neginothai.
Den Herre HERREN er min Styrke, han gør mine Fødder som Hindens og lader mig gaa paa mine Høje. Til Sangmesteren. Med Strengespil.
