Ezekiel 19
1 Moreover take thou up a lamentation for the princes of Israel,
Du menneskesøn istem en klagesang over Israels fyrster og sig:
2 And say, What is thy mother? A lioness: she lay down among lions, she nourished her whelps among young lions.
Hvor var dog din Moder en Løvinde midt iblandt Løver! Hun hviled blandt unge Løver opfostred Unger.
3 And she brought up one of her whelps: it became a young lion, and it learned to catch the prey; it devoured men.
En Unge voksede til, en Ungløve blev den; den lærte at røve Rov, Mennesker åd den.
4 The nations also heard of him; he was taken in their pit, and they brought him with chains unto the land of Egypt.
Da opbød man Folkene mod den, i Grav blev den fanget, de slæbte den bort med Kroge til Ægyptens Land.
5 Now when she saw that she had waited, and her hope was lost, then she took another of her whelps, and made him a young lion.
Da hun så, at den var ført bort, at Håbet var bristet, tog hun en anden Unge og gjorde til Løve.
6 And he went up and down among the lions, he became a young lion, and learned to catch the prey, and devoured men.
Den gik imellem Løvinder, en Ungløve blev den, den lærte at røve Rov, Mennesker åd den.
7 And he knew their desolate palaces, and he laid waste their cities; and the land was desolate, and the fulness thereof, by the noise of his roaring.
Den overfaldt Vædre på Græs, var Hjordenes Rædsel Landet og dets Fylde stivned af Angst for dens Brøl.
8 Then the nations set against him on every side from the provinces, and spread their net over him: he was taken in their pit.
Og Folkene lagde Snarer rundt omkring den, over den bredte de Nettet, i Grav blev den fanget.
9 And they put him in ward in chains, and brought him to the king of Babylon: they brought him into holds, that his voice should no more be heard upon the mountains of Israel.
De trak den med Kroge i Bur og førte den til Babels Konge, hen til Borgen, at dens Røst ej mer skulde høres på Israels Bjerge.
10 Thy mother is like a vine in thy blood, planted by the waters: she was fruitful and full of branches by reason of many waters.
Din Moder var en Vinstok i Vingården, plantet ved Vand, frugtbar og rig på Grene ved rigelig Væde.
11 And she had strong rods for the sceptres of them that bare rule, and her stature was exalted among the thick branches, and she appeared in her height with the multitude of her branches.
En af dens Grene blev til et Herskerspir dens knejsende Vækst skød op imellem Løvet, let at se i sin Højde, med mange Ranker.
12 But she was plucked up in fury, she was cast down to the ground, and the east wind dried up her fruit: her strong rods were broken and withered; the fire consumed them.
Men, i Vrede blev Vinstokken oprykt, slænget til Jorden, Østenstorm tørred dens Frugt, den reves af, dens stolte Gren blev vissen, Ild åd den op.
13 And now she is planted in the wilderness, in a dry and thirsty ground.
Nu er den plantet i Ørkenen, et tørt og tørstigt Land.
14 And fire is gone out of a rod of her branches, which hath devoured her fruit, so that she hath no strong rod to be a sceptre to rule. This is a lamentation, and shall be for a lamentation.
Ild for ud af dens Gren, fortæred dens Ranker og Frugt: en stolt Gren findes ej på den til Herskerspir. Dette er en Klagesang, og en Klagesang blev det.
