Habakkuk 3
1 A prayer by Habakkuk the prophet, —in the manner of an Ode.
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2 O Yahweh, I have heard tidings of thee, I am afraid. O Yahweh! Thy work—in the midst of the years, O revive it, in the midst of the years, wilt thou make known? In trouble, wilt thou remember, compassion?
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3 GOD, from Teman, cometh in, and, the Holy One, from Mount Paran. (Selah) His splendour, hath covered the heavens, and, his praise, hath filled the earth:
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4 And, a brightness, as light, appeareth, Rays, out of his hand, hath he, —and, there, is the hiding of his power.
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5 Before him, marcheth pestilence, —and fever, goeth forth, at his feet:
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6 He hath stood and measured the earth, he hath looked, and caused nations to tremble, and, scattered as dust, are the perpetual mountains, and, sunk, are the age-abiding hills, —Forthgoings age-abiding, are his.
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7 Under distress, saw I the tents of Ethiopia, —tremble, do the curtains of the land of Midian.
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8 Against the rivers, is Yahweh wroth? Against the rivers, is thine anger? Against the sea, is thine indignation? For thou wilt ride on Thy horses, Thy chariots, [shall be] salvation!
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9 To nakedness, is bared thy bow, oaths of chastisement—song! (Selah) With rivers, thou dost cleave open the land.
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10 The mountains, have seen thee—they tremble, a downpour of waters, hath passed along, —the roaring deep, hath given forth, his voice, on high—his hand, hath he uplifted.
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11 Sun, moon, have stood still, on high, —like light, thine arrows, speed along, like brightness, is the flash of thy spear.
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12 In wrath, dost thou stride through the land, —in anger, dost thou thresh the nations.
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13 Thou hast come forth to the salvation of thy people, to salvation, with thine Anointed One, —Thou hast crushed the Head out of the house of the lawless one, baring the foundation up to the neck, (Selah)
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14 Thou hast pierced, with his own staves, the head of his chiefs, they storm along, to scatter me, —their exultant thought, is, in very deed, to devour the oppressed one, in a secret place!
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15 Thou hast driven, into the sea, thy chariot-horses. Foaming are the mighty waters!
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16 I heard, and I trembled within me, at the voice, my lips, quivered, decay, entered, my bones, and, in my limbs, I trembled, —though I am to find rest, in the day of distress, when their invader, cometh up against the people.
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17 Though, the fig-tree, should not blossom, and there be no sprouting in the vines, the yield of the olive, should have deceived, and, the fields, not have brought forth food, —the flock, have been consumed out of the fold, and there be no herd in the stalls,
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18 Yet, I, in Yahweh, will rejoice, —I will exult in the God of my salvation.
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19 Yahweh, My Lord, is my strength, therefore hath he made my feet like hinds, and, upon my high places, will he cause me to march along. To the chief musician, on my double harp.
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