Nahum 3
1 Woe to the city full of blood! It is all full of lies and stolen property; victims are always in her.
Ve Byen, der drypper af Blod, hvor der kun tales Løgn, så fuld af Ran, med Rov uden Ende!
2 But now there is the noise of whips and the sound of rattling wheels, prancing horses, and bounding chariots.
Hør Smæld og raslende Vogne, jagende Heste,
3 There are attacking horsemen, flashing swords, glittering spears, heaps of corpses, great piles of bodies. There is no end to the bodies; their attackers stumble over them.
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 This is happening because of the lustful actions of the beautiful prostitute, the expert in witchcraft, who sells nations through her prostitution, and peoples through her acts of witchcraft.
For Skøgens vidt drevne Utugt, den fagre, udlært i Trolddom, som besnærede Folk ved Utugt, Stammer ved Trolddom,
5 “See, I am against you—this is the declaration of Yahweh of hosts—I will raise up your skirt over your face and show your private parts to the nations, your shame to the kingdoms.
kommer jeg over dig, lyder det fra Hærskarers HERRE; dit Slæb slår jeg op i Ansigtet på dig, lader Folkeslag se din Blusel, Riger din Skam,
6 I will throw disgusting filth on you and make you vile; I will make you someone that everyone will look at.
dænger dig til med Skarn og vanærer dig, ja sætter dig i Gabestok.
7 It will come about that everyone who looks at you will flee from you and say, 'Nineveh is destroyed; who will weep for her?' Where can I find anyone to comfort you?”
Enhver, som får 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 Nineveh, are you better than Thebes, that was built on the Nile River, that had water around her, whose defense was the ocean, whose wall was the sea itself?
Mon du er bedre end No-Amon, der lå ved Strømme, omgivet af Vand som Bolværk, med Vand til Mur?
9 Cush and Egypt were her strength, and there was no end to it; Put and Libya were allies to her.
Dets Styrke var Ætiopere og Ægyptere uden Tal; Put og Libyer kom det til Hjælp.
10 Yet Thebes was carried away; she went into captivity; her young children were dashed in pieces at the head of every street; her enemies threw lots for her honorable men, and all her great men were bound in chains.
Dog førtes det bort, i Fangenskab måtte det vandre, på alle Gadebjørner knustes også dets spæde; og om dets ædle kastedes Lod, alle dets Stormænd lagdes i Lænker.
11 You also will become drunk; you will try to hide, and you will also look for a refuge from your enemy.
Også du skal drikke og synke i Afmagt, også du skal søge i Ly for Fjenden.
12 All your fortresses will be like fig trees with the earliest ripe figs: if they are shaken, they fall into the mouth of the eater.
Alle dine Fæstninger er Figener og tidligmoden Frugt; når de rystes, falder de den spisende i Munden.
13 See, the people among you are women; the gates of your land have been opened wide to your enemies; fire has devoured their bars.
Se, Folket i dig er som Kvinder, vidåbne for Fjenden er Portene ind til dit Land, Ild fortæred dine Slåer.
14 Go draw water for the siege; strengthen your fortresses; go into the clay and tread the mortar; pick up the molds for the bricks.
Øs Vand til Brug, når du omringes, styrk dine Fæstninger, træd Dynd, stamp Ler, tag fat på Teglstensformen.
15 Fire will devour you there, and the sword will destroy you. It will devour you as young locusts devour everything. Make yourselves as many as the young locusts, as many as the full-grown locusts.
Ild skal fortære dig på Stedet. Sværd udrydde dig, fortære dig som Springere. Er du end talrig som Springere, talrig som Græshopper,
16 You have multiplied your merchants more than the stars in the heavens; but they are like young locusts: they plunder the land and then fly away.
er end dine Købmænd flere end Himlens Stjerner - Græshoppen kaster sin Vingeskal og flyver!
17 Your princes are as many as the full-grown locusts, and your generals are like swarms of them that camp in the walls on a cold day. But when the sun rises they fly away to no one knows where.
Dine Fogeder er som Græshopper, dine Tipsarer som Græshoppesværme; de lejrer sig i Hegn, når Dagen er sval; men når Solen står op, er de borte, man ved ej hvor.
18 King of Assyria, your shepherds are asleep; your rulers are lying down resting. Your people are scattered on the mountains, and there is no one to gather them.
Hvor sov dine Hyrder fast, du Assurs Konge! Dine Helte blunded; dit Folk er spredt på Bjergene, ingen samler dem.
19 No healing is possible for your wounds. Your wounds are severe. Everyone who hears the news about you will clap their hands in joy over you. Who has escaped your constant wickedness?
Ulægeligt er dit Brud, dit Sår er til Døden. Alle, som hører om dig, klapper i Hånd; thi hvem fik ikke din Ondskab stadig at føle?
