1A prayer of Habakkuk the prophet, upon Shigionoth.
2Yahweh, I have heard the report of you; I fear, Yahweh, your work. In the midst of the years revive it; in the midst of the years make it known; in wrath remember mercy.
3God comes from Teman, the Holy One from Mount Paran. Selah. His splendor covers the heavens, and his praise fills the earth.
4And the brightness is like light; rays flash from his hand, and there is the hiding of his power.
5Before him goes pestilence, and plague goes forth at his feet.
6He stood and shook the earth; he looked and made nations tremble. The ancient mountains were shattered; the everlasting hills sank down. His are the ancient ways.
7Under trouble I saw the tents of Cushan; the tent-curtains of the land of Midian trembled.
8Was it against the rivers, Yahweh, that you burned with anger? Was your wrath against the rivers, or your fury against the sea, when you rode upon your horses, your chariots of salvation?
9You laid bare your bow; sworn were the rods of the word. Selah. With rivers you split the earth.
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 still in their lofty dwelling, at the light of your arrows as they sped, at the brightness of your flashing spear.
12In indignation 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. You crushed the head from the house of the wicked, laying bare the foundation up to the neck. Selah.
14You pierced with his own shafts the head of his warriors, who stormed to scatter me, whose exulting was like devouring the poor in secret.
15You trod the sea with your horses, the churning of many waters.
16I heard, and my belly trembled; at the sound my lips quivered. Rot enters my bones, and beneath me I tremble— that I should wait quietly for the day of distress, when it comes up against the people who will invade us.
17Though the fig tree does not blossom, and there is no fruit on the vines; though the yield of the olive fails, and the fields produce no food; though the flock is cut off from the fold, and there is no herd in the stalls—
18yet I will exult in Yahweh; I will rejoice in the God of my salvation.
19Yahweh the Lord is my strength; he makes my feet like the deer’s, and upon my high places he makes me tread. For the director, with my stringed instruments.
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