Habakkuk 3

1A prayer of Habakkuk the prophet, according to Shigionoth.

2Yahweh, I have heard the report of you; I stand in awe. Yahweh, revive your work in the midst of the years; in the midst of the years make it known; in wrath remember mercy.

3God comes from Teman, and the Holy One from Mount Paran. Selah. His splendor covers the heavens, and his praise fills the earth.

4His brightness was like the light; rays were from his hand, and there his power was hidden.

5Before him goes pestilence, and plague comes out at his feet.

6He stood and measured the earth; he looked and made nations tremble. The ancient mountains were shattered; the everlasting hills sank low. His ways are everlasting.

7I saw the tents of Cushan under affliction; the tent curtains of the land of Midian were trembling.

8Was your anger against the rivers, Yahweh? Was your wrath against the rivers, or your fury against the sea, that you rode on your horses, on your chariots of salvation?

9Your bow is laid bare; the rods are sworn by command. Selah. You split the earth with rivers.

10The mountains saw you and writhed; a torrent of waters swept by. The deep gave its voice; it lifted its hands on high.

11Sun and moon stood in their lofty place; at the light of your arrows they went, at the brightness of the flash of your spear.

12In wrath you marched through the earth; in anger you threshed the nations.

13You went out for the salvation of your people, for the salvation of your anointed one; you crushed the head of the house of the wicked, laying bare the foundation up to the neck. Selah

14You pierced the head of his warriors with his own staffs; they stormed out to scatter me, their exultation like one about to devour the poor in secret.

15You marched through the sea with your horses, through the heap of mighty waters.

16I heard, and my inward parts trembled; at the sound my lips quivered. Rot enters into my bones, and beneath me I tremble, as I wait quietly for the day of distress, for the coming up of the people who will invade us.

17Though the fig tree does not blossom, and there is no produce on the vines; the yield of the olive fails, and the fields produce no food; the flock is cut off from the fold, and there is no herd in the stalls,

18Yet I will rejoice in Yahweh; I will exult in the God of my salvation.

19The LORD, my Lord, is my strength; he makes my feet like the deer’s, and he causes me to tread on my heights. For the choir director: with my stringed instruments.