Joel 1

1 Herrens ord som kom til Joel Petuelsson.

The word of YHWH that came to Joel, the son of Pethuel.

2 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?

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?

3 Fortel det til dykkar born, og dykkar born til sine born, og deira born til ei ætt som kjem!

Tell your children about it, and have your children tell their children, and their children, another generation.

4 Det som gnagaren leivde, åt grashoppen upp. Det som grashoppen leivde, åt bitaren upp. Det som bitaren leivde, åt etaren upp.

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.

5 Vakna, de drukne, og gråte, jamra, vindrikkarar alle! For druvesafti er rivi dykk frå munn.

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.

6 Eit folk hev fare yver landet mitt, veldugt og utan tal, med tenner som løvetenner, dei jakslar som løvor hev.

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.

7 Vintrei mine er tynte og fiketre brotne ned, dei hev flekt deim reint og hivt deim, det heng kvite greiner på.

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.

8 Klaga som ei møy som syrgjeklædd gjeng yver sin ungdoms brudgom.

Mourn like a virgin dressed in sackcloth for the husband of her youth.

9 Grjon- og drykkoffer er kvorvne frå Herrens hus, prestarne syrgjer, Herrens tenarar.

The meal offering and the drink offering are cut off from YHWH's house. The priests, YHWH's ministers, mourn.

10 Åkrar er øydde, jordi jamrar. For øydt er kornet, vinsafti magtlaus, oljen er kvorven.

The field is laid waste. The land mourns, for the grain is destroyed, The new wine has dried up, and the oil languishes.

11 Bonden er magtstolen, vindyrkar rådlaus for kveite og bygg, grøda på marki er tynt.

Be confounded, you farmers. Wail, you vineyard keepers; for the wheat and for the barley; for the harvest of the field has perished.

12 Vintre er mergstolne, fiketre folna. Granattre og palma og apall, alle tre hev turka burt. Ja, fagnaden er stolen frå mannaheim.

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.

13 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.

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.

14 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.

Sanctify a fast. Call a solemn assembly. Gather the elders, and all the inhabitants of the land, to the house of YHWH, your God, and cry to YHWH.

15 Å hå for ein dag! Nær er Herrens dag. Som vald ifrå Allvald han kjem.

Alas for the day. For the day of YHWH is at hand, and it will come as destruction from Shaddai.

16 Strauk ikkje maten burt med me såg på, frå Guds hus gleda og frygd?

Isn't the food cut off before our eyes; joy and gladness from the house of our God?

17 Kornet turkar burt under jordskorpa. Tome er buri, lødorne øydest. Ja, kornet turkar burt.

The seeds shrivel under their shovels. The storehouses are laid desolate. The granaries are broken down, for the grain has withered.

18 Kor buskapen rautar! Rådlaus er kvar bøling; for ikkje beite dei finn, sauerne jamvel lyt bøta.

How the animals groan. The herds of livestock are perplexed, because they have no pasture. Even the flocks of sheep suffer.

19 Til deg, Herre, ropar eg. For elden han åt hamni på heidi, og logen leika i ved og i tre.

YHWH, I cry to you, for the fire has devoured the pastures of the wilderness, and the flame has burned all the trees of the field.

20 Jamvel dyri i marki etter deg mun stynja, for turre er bekkjefari. Og elden han åt hamni på heidi.

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.