< Joel 1 >
1 Yahweh’s word that came to Joel, the son of Pethuel.
HERRENS Ord, som kom til Joel, Petuels Søn.
2 Hear this, you elders, and listen, all you inhabitants of the land! Has this ever happened in your days, or in the days of your fathers?
Hør dette, I Ældste, laan Øre, alle, som bor i Landet! Er sligt mon sket i eders eller eders Fædres Dage?
3 Tell your children about it, and have your children tell their children, and their children, another generation.
I skal fortælle det til eders Børn, og de igen til deres, og deres til næste Slægt.
4 What the swarming locust has left, the great locust has eaten. What the great locust has left, the grasshopper has eaten. What the grasshopper has left, the caterpillar has eaten.
Græshoppen aad, hvad Gnaveren levned, Springeren aad, hvad Græshoppen levned, Æderen aad, hvad Springeren levned.
5 Wake up, you drunkards, and weep! Wail, all you drinkers of wine, because of the sweet wine, for it is cut off from your mouth.
Vaagn op, I drukne, og græd; enhver, som drikker Vin, skal jamre over Most, der gik tabt for eders Mund.
6 For a nation has come up on my land, strong, and without number. His teeth are the teeth of a lion, and he has the fangs of a lioness.
Thi et Folk drog op mod mit Land, vældigt og uden Tal; dets Tænder er Løvetænder, det har Kindtænder som en Løvinde.
7 He has laid my vine waste, and stripped my fig tree. He has stripped its bark, and thrown it away. Its branches are made white.
Det lagde min Vinstok øde, knækked mit Figentræ, afbarked og hærgede det; dets Grene stritter hvide.
8 Mourn like a virgin dressed in sackcloth for the husband of her youth!
Klag som sørgeklædt Jomfru over sin Ungdoms Brudgom!
9 The meal offering and the drink offering are cut off from Yahweh’s house. The priests, Yahweh’s ministers, mourn.
Afgrødeoffer og Drikoffer gik tabt for HERRENS Hus; Præsterne, HERRENS Tjenere sørger.
10 The field is laid waste. The land mourns, for the grain is destroyed, The new wine has dried up, and the oil languishes.
Marken er ødelagt, Jorden sørger; thi Kornet er ødelagt, Mosten slog fejl og Olien hentørres.
11 Be confounded, you farmers! Wail, you vineyard keepers, for the wheat and for the barley; for the harvest of the field has perished.
Bønder skuffes og Vingaardsmænd jamrer baade over Hveden og Byggen; thi Markens Høst gik tabt;
12 The vine has dried up, and the fig tree withered— the pomegranate tree, the palm tree also, and the apple tree, even all of the trees of the field are withered; for joy has withered away from the sons of men.
fejl slog Vinstokken, Figentræet tørres; Granatæble-, Palme— og Æbletræ, hvert Markens Træ tørres hen. Ja, med Skam veg Glæde fra Menneskens Børn.
13 Put on sackcloth and mourn, you priests! Wail, you ministers of the altar. Come, lie all night in sackcloth, you ministers of my God, for the meal offering and the drink offering are withheld from your God’s house.
Sørg, I Præster, i Sæk, I Alterets Tjenere, jamrer! Gaa ind og bær Sæk i Nat, I, som tjener min Gud! Thi Afgrødeoffer og Drikoffer unddrages eders Guds Hus.
14 Sanctify a fast. Call a solemn assembly. Gather the elders and all the inhabitants of the land to the house of Yahweh, your God, and cry to Yahweh.
Helliger en Faste, udraab festlig Samling, I Ældste, kald alle, som bor i Landet, sammen til HERREN eders Guds Hus og raab saa til HERREN!
15 Alas for the day! For the day of Yahweh is at hand, and it will come as destruction from the Almighty.
Ak, hvilken Dag! Thi nær er HERRENS Dag, den kommer som Vold fra den Vældige.
16 Isn’t the food cut off before our eyes, joy and gladness from the house of our God?
Saa vi ej Føden gaa tabt, vor Guds Hus tømt for Glæde og Jubel?
17 The seeds rot under their clods. The granaries are laid desolate. The barns are broken down, for the grain has withered.
Sæden skrumper ind i den klumpede Jord; Lader er nedbrudt, Forraadshuse jævnet, thi Kornet er vissent.
18 How the animals groan! The herds of livestock are perplexed, because they have no pasture. Yes, the flocks of sheep are made desolate.
Hvor Kvæget dog stønner! Oksernes Hjorde er skræmte, fordi de ikke har Græs; selv Smaakvægets Hjorde lider.
19 Yahweh, I cry to you, for the fire has devoured the pastures of the wilderness, and the flame has burned all the trees of the field.
Jeg raaber til dig, o HERRE; thi Ild har fortæret Ørkenens Græsning, og Luen afsved hvert Markens Træ;
20 Yes, the animals of the field pant to you, for the water brooks have dried up, and the fire has devoured the pastures of the wilderness.
til dig skriger selv Markens Dyr, thi Bækkenes Lejer er tørre, og Ild har fortæret Ørkenens Græsning.