Isaiah 47

1 Down—and sit in the dust, O virgin Daughter of Babylon, Sit on the ground—throneless, Daughter of the Chaldeans; For thou shalt no more be called Tender and Dainty.

Stig ned, sid i Støvet, du Jomfru, Babels Datter, sid uden Trone paa Jorden, Kaldæernes Datter! Thi ikke mer skal du kaldes den fine, forvænte!

2 Take millstones, and grind meal, —Put back thy veil—tuck up thy train Bare the leg, wade through streams:

Tag fat paa Kværnen, mal Mel, læg Sløret bort, løft Slæbet, blot dine Ben og vad over Strømmen!

3 Bared shall be thy shame, Yea seen thy reproach, —An avenging, will I take, And will accept no son of earth.

Din Blusel skal blottes, din Skam skal ses. Hævn tager jeg uden Skaansel, siger vor Genløser,

4 Our Redeemer, Yahweh of hosts, is his name! The Holy One of Israel.

hvis Navn er Hærskarers HERRE, Israels Hellige.

5 Sit silent, and get into darkness, Daughter of the Chaldeans! For thou shalt no more be called Mistress of Kingdoms.

Sid tavs og gaa ind i Mørke, Kaldæernes Datter, thi ikke mer skal du kaldes Rigernes Dronning!

6 I had been provoked with my people, Had profaned mine inheritance, And given them into thy hand, …Thou shewedst them no compassion, Upon the elder, madest thou very heavy thy yoke.

Jeg vrededes paa mit Folk, vanæred min Arv, gav dem hen i din Haand; du viste dem ingen Medynk, du lagde dit tunge Aag paa Oldingens Nakke.

7 And thou saidst, Unto times age-abiding, shall I be Mistress, —Insomuch that thou laidst not these things to thy heart, Didst not keep in mind the issue thereof,

Du sagde: »Jeg bliver evindelig Evigheds Dronning.« Du tog dig det ikke til Hjerte, brød dig ikke om Enden.

8 Now, therefore hear this, Thou Lady of pleasure Who dwelleth securely, Who saith in her heart, —I, [am], and there is no one besides, I shall not sit a widow, Nor know loss of children.

Saa hør nu, du yppige, du, som sidder i Tryghed, som siger i Hjertet: »Kun jeg, og ellers ingen! Aldrig skal jeg sidde Enke, ej kende til Barnløshed.«

9 Yet shall there come to thee—both these, in a moment, in one day, Loss of children and widowhood, —To their full, have they come on thee, Spite of the mass of thine incantations, Spite of the great throng of thy spells.

Begge Dele skal ramme dig brat samme Dag, Barnløshed og Enkestand ramme dig i fuldeste Maal, dine mange Trylleord, din megen Trolddom til Trods,

10 And so thou didst trust in thy wickedness, Thou saidst, no one, seeth me, Thy wisdom and knowledge, the same, seduced thee, —Therefore saidst thou in thy heart, I [am], and there is no one besides.

skønt du tryg i din Ondskab sagde: »ingen ser mig.« Din Visdom og Viden var det, der ledte dig vild, saa du sagde i Hjertet: »Kun jeg, og ellers ingen!«

11 Therefore shall come on thee—Mischief, Thou shalt not know how to charm it away Yea there shall fall on thee, Ruin, Thou shalt not be able to appease it, —And there shall come on thee suddenly. Desolation. Thou shalt not know.

Dig rammer et Onde, du ikke kan købe bort, over dig falder et Vanheld, du ikke kan sone, Undergang rammer dig brat, naar mindst du aner det.

12 Take thy stand, I pray thee, With thy spells. And with the throng of thine incantations wherein thou hast wearied thyself from thy youth, —Peradventure thou mayest be able to profit Peradventure thou mayest strike me with terror.

Kom med din Trolddom og med dine mange Trylleord, med hvilke du umaged dig fra din Ungdom, om du kan bøde derpaa og skræmme det bort.

13 Thou hast worn thyself out with the mass of thy consultations, —Let them take their stand I pray thee that they may save thee—The dividers of the heavens—The gazers at the stars, They who make known by new moons, Somewhat of the things which shall come upon thee.

Med Raadgiverhoben sled du dig træt, lad dem møde, lad Himmelgranskerne frelse dig, Stjernekigerne, som Maaned for Maaned kundgør, hvad dig skal ske!

14 Lo! they have become as straw—a fire, hath burned them up, They shall not deliver their own soul from the grasp of the flame, —There is, no live coal to warm them, nor blaze to sit before.

Se, de er blevet som Straa, de fortæres af Ild, de frelser ikke deres Liv fra Luens Magt. »Ingen Glød til Varme, ej Baal at sidde ved!«

15 Such, have they become to thee, with whom thou hast wearied thyself, —Thy merchants—from thy youth, will every man stagger straight onwards—There is none to save thee.

Sligt faar du af dem, du umaged dig med, dine Troldmænd fra Ungdommen af; de raver hver til sin Side, dig frelser ingen.