Habakuk 3
1 Ei bøn av profeten Habakuk. Etter Sjigjonot.
A prayer of Habakkuk the prophet upon Shigyonoth.
2 Herre, eg hev høyrt tidendi um deg, eg er forfærd. Herre, ditt verk - kveik det upp att i desse åri! Kunngjer det i desse åri! Midt i harm kom miskunn i hug!
O Lord, I have heard thy fame, [and] was afraid: O Lord, thy work—in the midst of the years [of sorrow] revive thou it, in the midst of the years make it known; in wrath remember mercy.
3 Gud kjem frå Teman, og den Heilage frå Paranfjellet. (Sela) Hans herlegdom tekkjer himmelen, og jordi er full av hans pris.
[When] God from Theman came, and the Holy One from mount Paran, (Selah) his glory covered the heavens, and of his praise the earth was full.
4 Det vert ein glans som av soli, geislar gjeng frå hans sida; der løyner seg hans magt.
And [his] brightness was like the sunlight; rays streamed forth out of his hand unto them; and there was the hiding of his power.
5 Fyre honom gjeng sott, og sykja fylgjer hans fotfar.
Before him went the pestilence, and burning coals went forth in his steps.
6 Han stoggar, og jordi ristar, han ser, og folki skjelv; dei gamle fjelli sprekk, og ævordoms-haugarne sig i hop. Han fer på vegar frå fordom.
He stood forward, and made the earth tremble; he looked and dispersed nations; and there burst asunder the everlasting mountains; there sunk the perpetual hills: the ways of the world are his.
7 Kusans tjeldbuder ser eg i vande, tjeldi i Midjanslandet skjelv.
In affliction I saw the tents of Cushan: they trembled—the curtains of the land of Midian.
8 Logar din harm mot elvar, Herre? Din vreide mot elvarne? Harmast du på havet, sidan du ferast med hestarne dine, med sigervognerne dine?
Was the Lord wroth against the rivers? yea, was against the rivers thy anger [kindled]? was against the sea thy wrath that thou rodest upon thy horses, thy chariots of victory!
9 Berr, ja berr er bogen din. Svorne er refsingsris i ordet. (Sela) Til elvar kløyver du jordi.
Laid quite bare is thy bow, like severe rods of punishment [goeth forth] thy word, (Selah) into rivers thou splittest the earth.
10 Fjelli ser deg og skjelv, støyteregn sturtar ned, djupet dyn og styn, det lyfter henderne mot høgheim.
The mountains saw thee, they trembled; the flowing waters passed along: the deep issued forth its voice, the height lifted up its hands.
11 Sol og måne gjeng inn i sitt hus for skinet frå dine farande piler, for glansen av ditt ljonande spjot.
The sun and moon stood still in their dwelling: at the light of thy arrows they walked along, at the shining of the flaming glitter of thy spear.
12 I harm skrid du fram yver jordi, i vreide trøder du folk under fot.
In indignation thou marchest through the earth, in anger thou treadest down nations.
13 Du dreg ut til frelsa for folket ditt, til frelsa for honom som du salva. Du krasar hovudet på huset åt den gudlause, du gjer grunnen berr alt til halsen. (Sela)
Thou wentest forth to the assistance of thy people, to the assistance of thy anointed: thou didst wound the head out of the house of the wicked, destroy the foundation with the high-towering walls. (Selah)
14 Med hans eigne spjot sting du gjenom hovudet på hovdingarne hans som stormar fram, vil spreida meg, som gleder seg som det galdt i løynd å eta ein arming upp.
Thou didst strike through with his own spears the chiefs of his villages, who rushed out furiously to scatter me; who rejoiced greatly as though they were to devour the poor in secret.
15 Du fer yver havet med hestarne dine, det velduge brusande vatnet.
[But] thou didst pass along over the sea with thy horses, over the piled up billows of great waters.
16 Eg hev høyrt det, og hjarta skalv. Ved ljoden bivrar lipporne mine, beini morknar i meg, og eg skjelv der eg stend. For eg lyt tolug bia på trengsledagen, til han dreg upp som trengjer folket.
I heard it, and my inmost parts trembled; at the report my lips quivered; rottenness entered into my bones, and I trembled in my place, that I should rest till the day of distress, till the withdrawing of the people that will invade us with its troops.
17 For fiketreet blømer ikkje, og vintreet ber ikkje frukt, olje-avlen mislukkast. Og markene ber ikkje mat; sauerne kverv or kvii, og det finst ikkje fe i fjøset.
For the fig-tree doth not bud, and no fruit is on the vines; the productiveness of the olive deceiveth, and the fields yield no food; from the fold the flocks are cut off, and there are no herds in the stalls.
18 Men eg vil frygda meg i Herren, vil gleda meg i Gud som frelser meg.
Yet will I rejoice in the Lord, I will exult in the God of my salvation.
19 Herren, Herren er min styrke, han gjev meg føter som ei hind og let meg skrida yver mine haugar. Til songmeisteren, med min strengleik.
The Lord Eternal is my strength, and he maketh my feet fleet as those of the hinds, and he will cause me to tread upon my high places. To the chief musician of my songs.
