Joel 1
1 The LORD’s word that came to Joel, the son of Pethuel.
Herrens ord som kom til Joel Petuelsson.
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?
Gjev gaum åt dette, de som gamle er. Og lyd på det kvar som bur i landet! Hev sovore hendt i dykkar tid, eller i dykkar fedra-tid?
3 Tell your children about it, and have your children tell their children, and their children, another generation.
Fortel det til dykkar born, og dykkar born til sine born, og deira born til ei ætt som kjem!
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.
Det som gnagaren leivde, åt grashoppen upp. Det som grashoppen leivde, åt bitaren upp. Det som bitaren leivde, åt etaren upp.
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.
Vakna, de drukne, og gråte, jamra, vindrikkarar alle! For druvesafti er rivi dykk frå munn.
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.
Eit folk hev fare yver landet mitt, veldugt og utan tal, med tenner som løvetenner, dei jakslar som løvor hev.
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.
Vintrei mine er tynte og fiketre brotne ned, dei hev flekt deim reint og hivt deim, det heng kvite greiner på.
8 Mourn like a virgin dressed in sackcloth for the husband of her youth!
Klaga som ei møy som syrgjeklædd gjeng yver sin ungdoms brudgom.
9 The meal offering and the drink offering are cut off from the LORD’s house. The priests, the LORD’s ministers, mourn.
Grjon- og drykkoffer er kvorvne frå Herrens hus, prestarne syrgjer, Herrens tenarar.
10 The field is laid waste. The land mourns, for the grain is destroyed, The new wine has dried up, and the oil languishes.
Åkrar er øydde, jordi jamrar. For øydt er kornet, vinsafti magtlaus, oljen er kvorven.
11 Be confounded, you farmers! Wail, you vineyard keepers, for the wheat and for the barley; for the harvest of the field has perished.
Bonden er magtstolen, vindyrkar rådlaus for kveite og bygg, grøda på marki er tynt.
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.
Vintre er mergstolne, fiketre folna. Granattre og palma og apall, alle tre hev turka burt. Ja, fagnaden er stolen frå mannaheim.
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.
Syrgjeklædde klage, de prestar! Jamra dykk, de som tener ved altaret! Gakk inn og vake syrgjeklædde, de min Guds tenarar! For burte frå dykkar Guds hus er grjon- og drykkoffer.
14 Sanctify a fast. Call a solemn assembly. Gather the elders and all the inhabitants of the land to the house of the LORD, your God, and cry to the LORD.
Lys ut fasta og heilag samling, få dei gamle i hop, ja alle som bur i landet, til Herren, dykkar Guds hus! Til Herren de ropa må.
15 Alas for the day! For the day of the LORD is at hand, and it will come as destruction from the Almighty.
Å hå for ein dag! Nær er Herrens dag. Som vald ifrå Allvald han kjem.
16 Isn’t the food cut off before our eyes, joy and gladness from the house of our God?
Strauk ikkje maten burt med me såg på, frå Guds hus gleda og frygd?
17 The seeds rot under their clods. The granaries are laid desolate. The barns are broken down, for the grain has withered.
Kornet turkar burt under jordskorpa. Tome er buri, lødorne øydest. Ja, kornet turkar burt.
18 How the animals groan! The herds of livestock are perplexed, because they have no pasture. Yes, the flocks of sheep are made desolate.
Kor buskapen rautar! Rådlaus er kvar bøling; for ikkje beite dei finn, sauerne jamvel lyt bøta.
19 LORD, I cry to you, for the fire has devoured the pastures of the wilderness, and the flame has burnt all the trees of the field.
Til deg, Herre, ropar eg. For elden han åt hamni på heidi, og logen leika i ved og i tre.
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.
Jamvel dyri i marki etter deg mun stynja, for turre er bekkjefari. Og elden han åt hamni på heidi.
