Habakkuk
3 A prayer by Habakkuk the prophet,—in the manner of an Ode.
2 O Yahweh, I have heard tidings of thee, I am afraid. O Yahweh! Thy work—in the midst of the years O revive it, In the midst of the years wilt thou make known? In trouble wilt thou remember compassion?
3 God from Teman cometh in, And the Holy One from Mount Paran. [Selah. His splendour hath covered the heavens, And his praise hath filled the earth:
4 And a brightness as light appeareth, Rays out of his hand hath he,—And there is the hiding of his power.
5 Before him marcheth pestilence,—And fever goeth forth at his feet:
6 He hath stood and measured the earth, He hath looked and caused nations to tremble, And scattered as dust are the perpetual mountains And sunk are the age-abiding hills,—Forthgoings age-abiding are his.
7 Under distress saw I the tents of Ethiopia,—Tremble do the curtains of the land of Midian.
8 Against the rivers is Yahweh wroth? Against the rivers is thine anger? Against the sea is thine indignation? For thou wilt ride on Thy horses, Thy chariots [shall be] salvation!
9 To nakedness is bared thy bow, Oaths of chastisement—song! [Selah. With rivers thou dost cleave open the land.
10 The mountains have seen thee—they tremble, A downpour of waters hath passed along,—The roaring deep hath given forth his voice, On high—his hand hath he uplifted.
11 Sun, moon have stood still on high,—Like light thine arrows speed along, Like brightness is the flash of thy spear.
12 In wrath dost thou stride through the land,—In anger dost thou thresh the nations.
13 Thou hast come forth To the salvation of thy people, To salvation with thine Anointed One,—Thou hast crushed the Head out of the house of the lawless one, Baring the foundation up to the neck, [Selah.
14 Thou hast pierced with his own staves the head of his chiefs, They storm along to scatter me,—Their exultant thought is in very deed to devour the oppressed one in a secret place!
15 Thou hast driven into the sea thy chariot-horses. Foaming are the mighty waters!
16 I heard and I trembled within me At the voice my lips quivered, Decay entered my bones And in my limbs I trembled,—Though I am to find rest in the day of distress, When their invader cometh up against the people
17 Though the fig-tree should not blossom And there be no sprouting in the vines, The yield of the olive should have deceived And the fields not have brought forth food,—The flock have been consumed out of the fold, And there be no herd in the stalls
18 Yet I in Yahweh will rejoice,—I will exult in the God of my salvation.
19 Yahweh My Lord is my strength, Therefore hath he made my feet like hinds And upon my high places will he cause me to march along. To the chief musician on my double harp.