Nahum 3
1 Woe to the bloody city! It is all full of lies and robbery—no end to the prey.
Ve Byen, der drypper af Blod, hvor der kun tales Løgn, så fuld af Ran, med Rov uden Ende!
2 The noise of the whip, the noise of the rattling of wheels, prancing horses, and bounding chariots,
Hør Smæld og raslende Vogne, jagende Heste,
3 the horseman charging, and the flashing sword, the glittering spear, and a multitude of slain, and a great heap of corpses, and there is no end of the bodies. They stumble on their bodies
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 because of the multitude of the prostitution of the alluring prostitute, the mistress of witchcraft, who sells nations through her prostitution, and families through her witchcraft.
For Skøgens vidt drevne Utugt, den fagre, udlært i Trolddom, som besnærede Folk ved Utugt, Stammer ved Trolddom,
5 “Behold, I am against you,” says the LORD of Hosts, “and I will lift your skirts over your face. I will show the nations your nakedness, and the kingdoms your shame.
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 abominable filth on you and make you vile, and will make you a spectacle.
dænger dig til med Skarn og vanærer dig, ja sætter dig i Gabestok.
7 It will happen that all those who look at you will flee from you, and say, ‘Nineveh is laid waste! Who will mourn for her?’ Where will I seek comforters for 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 Are you better than No-Amon, who was situated amongst the rivers, who had the waters around her, whose rampart was the sea, and her wall was of the sea?
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 boundless strength. Put and Libya were her helpers.
Dets Styrke var Ætiopere og Ægyptere uden Tal; Put og Libyer kom det til Hjælp.
10 Yet was she carried away. She went into captivity. Her young children also were dashed in pieces at the head of all the streets, and they cast lots for her honourable 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 be drunken. You will be hidden. You also will seek a stronghold because of the 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 first-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 Behold, your troops amongst you are women. The gates of your land are set wide open to your enemies. The fire has devoured your bars.
Se, Folket i dig er som Kvinder, vidåbne for Fjenden er Portene ind til dit Land, Ild fortæred dine Slåer.
14 Draw water for the siege. Strengthen your fortresses. Go into the clay, and tread the mortar. Make the brick kiln strong.
Øs Vand til Brug, når du omringes, styrk dine Fæstninger, træd Dynd, stamp Ler, tag fat på Teglstensformen.
15 There the fire will devour you. The sword will cut you off. It will devour you like the grasshopper. Multiply like grasshoppers. Multiply like the locust.
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 increased your merchants more than the stars of the skies. The grasshopper strips and flees away.
er end dine Købmænd flere end Himlens Stjerner - Græshoppen kaster sin Vingeskal og flyver!
17 Your guards are like the locusts, and your officials like the swarms of locusts, which settle on the walls on a cold day, but when the sun appears, they flee away, and their place is not known where they are.
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 Your shepherds slumber, king of Assyria. Your nobles lie down. 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 There is no healing your wound, for your injury is fatal. All who hear the report of you clap their hands over you, for who hasn’t felt your endless cruelty?
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?
