The burden that Habakkuk the prophet hath seen:

Then, swifter than leopards, are his horses, and, more sharply they attack, than evening wolves, and forward have leapt his chargers, - Yea, his chargers, from afar, will come in, they will fly as an eagle hath hastened to devour.

Solely for violence, will he come, the intent of their faces, is - To the east! And he hath gathered, as the sand, a captive host;

And, he, over kings, will make merry, and, nobles, will be a scorn to him: he, at any fortress, will laugh, once he hath heaped up dust, he hath captured it!

Then passed on hath the spirit, Yea, he doth transgress, And doth ascribe this his power to his god.

So wouldst thou have made Men, like the fishes of the sea, - like the creeping thing that hath no ruler over it:

Each of them with a hook he hath brought up, He doth catch it in his net, and gathereth it in his drag, Therefore he doth joy and rejoice.

And also, because the wine is treacherous, A man is haughty, and remaineth not at home, Who hath enlarged as sheol his soul, And is as death that is not satisfied, And doth gather unto itself all the nations, And doth assemble unto itself all the peoples,

What profiteth the graven image that the maker thereof hath graven it; the molten image, and a teacher of lies, that the maker of his work trusteth therein, to make dumb idols?

God from Teman doth come, The Holy One from mount Paran. Pause! Covered the heavens hath His majesty, And His praise hath filled the earth.

And the brightness is as the light, He hath rays out of His hand, And there -- the hiding of His strength.

He hath stood, and He measureth earth, He hath seen, and He shaketh off nations, And scatter themselves do mountains of antiquity, Bowed have the hills of old, The ways of old are His.

Against rivers hath Jehovah been wroth? Against rivers is Thine anger? Against the sea is Thy wrath? For Thou dost ride on Thy horses -- Thy chariots of salvation?

Seen thee -- pained are mountains, An inundation of waters hath passed over, Given forth hath the deep its voice, High its hands it hath lifted up.

Sun -- moon -- hath stood -- a habitation, At the light thine arrows go on, At the brightness, the glittering of thy spear.

Though the fig-tree doth not flourish, And there is no produce among vines, Failed hath the work of the olive, And fields have not yielded food, Cut off from the fold hath been the flock, And there is no herd in the stalls.

Yahweh, My Lord, is my strength, therefore hath he made my feet like hinds, and, upon my high places, will he cause me to march along. To the chief musician, on my double harp.