Habakkuk 3
1 A prayer of Habakkuk the prophet upon Shigionoth.
En Bøn af Profeten Habakkuk. Al-sjigjonot.
2 O LORD, I have heard thy speech, and was afraid: O LORD, revive thy work in the midst of the years, in the midst of the years make known; 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 came from Teman, and the Holy One from mount Paran. (Selah) His glory covered the heavens, and the earth was full of his praise.
Gud drager frem fra Teman, den Hellige fra Parans Bjerge. (Sela) Hans Højhed skjuler Himlen, hans Herlighed fylder Jorden.
4 And his brightness was as the light; he had horns coming out of his hand: 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 coals went forth at his feet.
Foran ham vandrer Pest, og efter ham følger Sot.
6 He stood, and measured the earth: he beheld, and drove asunder the nations; and the everlasting mountains were scattered, the perpetual hills did bow: his ways are everlasting.
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 I saw the tents of Cushan in affliction: and the curtains of the land of Midian trembled.
Kusjans Telte bæver, Telttæpperne i Midjans Land.
8 Was the LORD displeased against the rivers? was thy anger against the rivers? was thy wrath against the sea, that thou didst ride upon thy horses and thy chariots of salvation?
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 bow was made quite naked, according to the oaths of the tribes, even thy word. (Selah) Thou didst cleave the earth with rivers.
Din Bue kom blottet til Syne, din Buestreng mætter du med Pile. (Sela) Du kløver Jorden i Strømme,
10 The mountains saw thee, and they trembled: the overflowing of the water passed by: the deep uttered his voice, and lifted up his hands on high.
Bjergene ser dig og skælver. Skyerne nedsender Regnskyl, og Afgrunden løfter sin Røst.
11 The sun and moon stood still in their habitation: at the light of thy arrows they went, and at the shining of thy glittering spear.
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 didst march through the land in indignation, thou didst thresh the heathen in anger.
I Harme skrider du hen over Jorden, du nedtramper Folk i Vrede.
13 Thou wentest forth for the salvation of thy people, even for salvation with thy anointed; thou didst wound the head out of the house of the wicked, by laying bare the foundation to the neck. (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 didst strike through with his staffs the head of his villages: they came out as a whirlwind to scatter me: their rejoicing was as to devour the poor secretly.
Med dit Spyd gennemborer du hans Hoved, hans Høvdinger splittes.
15 Thou didst walk through the sea with thy horses, through the mire of great waters.
Du tramper hans Heste i Havet, i de mange Vandes Dynd.
16 When I heard, my belly trembled; my lips quivered at the voice: rottenness entered into my bones, and I trembled in myself, that I might rest in the day of trouble: when he cometh up to the people, he will invade them with his troops.
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 Although the fig tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines; the labour of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall yield no food; the flock shall be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no herd in the stalls:
Thi Figentræet blomstrer ikke, Vinstokken giver intet, Olietræets Afgrøde svigter, Markerne giver ej Føde. Faarene svandt af Folden, i Staldene findes ej Okser.
18 Yet I will rejoice in the LORD, I will joy in the God of my salvation.
Men jeg vil frydes i HERREN, juble i min Frelses Gud.
19 The LORD God is my strength, and he will make my feet like hinds’ feet, and he will make me to walk upon my high places. To the chief singer on my stringed instruments.
Den Herre HERREN er min Styrke, han gør mine Fødder som Hindens og lader mig gaa paa mine Høje. Til Sangmesteren. Med Strengespil.
