Job 30
1 Men nu le de ad mig, som ere yngre af Aar end jeg, de, hvis Fædre jeg vilde have forsmaaet at sætte hos mine Faarehunde.
But now they who are younger than I in years laugh at me, whose fathers I scorned to put as equals with the dogs of my flocks.
2 Ja, hvortil skulde deres Hænders Kraft have gavnet mig? hos dem er Styrken svundet bort.
Yea, what possible use can the strength of their hands be unto me, over whom old age hath passed fruitlessly?
3 De ere udtærede af Mangel og Hunger, de afgnave den golde Ørk, i Ødelæggelsens og Fordærvelsens Nat;
Who suffer for want and famine in solitude; who flee into the wilderness [where all is] darkness, ruin, and desolation;
4 de oprykke Katost ved Buskene, og Gyveltræets Rod er deres Føde;
Who crop off mallows by the bushes, and have broom-bush roots as their bread;
5 de uddrives fra Samfundet, man skriger efter dem som efter en Tyv;
Who are driven forth from among [men], who are shouted after as though they were thieves,
6 de bo i Kløfter i Dalene, i Huler i Jorden og Klipper;
To dwell in the caverns of the valleys, in holes of the earth, and on naked cliffs.
7 imellem Buske skryde de, de samles under Nælder.
Among the bushes they shriek; under briers they are huddled together,
8 Børn af Daarer, ja af Mænd uden Navn; de ere udstødte af Landet.
The children of the worthless, yea, the children of the nameless, who were outcasts from the land.
9 Men nu er jeg bleven en Spottesang for dem og maa tjene dem til Snak.
But now I am become their song, and I am become a byword unto them.
10 De have Vederstyggelighed til mig, de holde sig langt fra mig og spare ikke at spytte mig i Ansigtet.
They loathe me, they keep themselves far from me, and from my face they withhold not their spittle.
11 Thi de have løst Tøjlen af sig og plaget mig, og de have kastet Bidselet af for mit Ansigt.
Because he hath loosened the cord of my bow, and afflicted me, they have also cast off the bridle before me.
12 Til højre for mig staar en Yngel frem, de støde mine Fødder bort, og de bane deres Fordærvelses Veje imod mig;
Against my right hand rise up this swarm of worthless youths: they push away my feet, and they level against me their calamity-bringing paths.
13 de bryde min Sti op, de hjælpe til min Ulykke, de have ingen Hjælper;
They destroy my footpath, they help forward my downfall, without any one to aid them.
14 de komme som igennem et vidt Gab, de vælte sig frem under Bulder.
As [through] a broad breach they come: amidst a loud noise they rolled themselves along.
15 Rædsler ere vendte imod mig, som et Stormvejr forfølge de min Herlighed, og min Frelse er gaaet forbi som en Sky.
Terrors have turned their face against me; they chase like the wind my glory: and like a cloud is my happiness passed away.
16 Men nu er min Sjæl hensmeltet i mig, Elendigheds Dage komme over mig.
And now my soul is poured out over me; the days of affliction have seized on me;
17 Natten gennemborer mine Ben, saa at de falde af mig, og mine nagende Smerter hvile ikke.
All night it holloweth out my bones out of my body; and my pursuers take no rest.
18 Ved den overvættes Magt er min Klædning helt forandret, den omslutter mig som Kraven paa min Underkjortel.
Through the Almlghty's power is my garment made unknown: like the opening of my coat hath he enclosed me.
19 Han har kastet mig i Dyndet, og jeg er lignet ved Støv og Aske.
He hath cast me into the mire, and I am become like dust and ashes.
20 Jeg skriger til dig, men du svarer mig ikke; jeg staar der, og du bliver ved at se paa mig.
I cry aloud unto thee, but thou answerest me not: I stand up, and thou fixest thy regard against me.
21 Du har forvendt dig til at være grum imod mig; du modstaar mig med din Haands Styrke.
Thou art changed into a cruel master toward me: with the strength of thy hand thou assailest me.
22 Du løfter mig op i Stormvejret, du lader mig fare hen, og du lader mig forgaa i dets Brag.
Thou liftest me up to the wind; thou causest me to pass away, and dissolvest in me all wise counsel.
23 Thi jeg ved, du fører mig til Døden igen og til alle levendes Forsamlings Hus.
For I know that thou wilt bring me back to death, and to the house of assembly for all the living.
24 Mon en ikke udrækker Haanden i sit Fald? eller mon en ikke skriger i sin Ulykke?
But doth not a man stretch out his hand among ruins? or doth one not cry out therefrom [for help] when he meeteth his downfall?
25 Eller græd jeg ikke for den, som havde haarde Dage? ynkedes min Sjæl ikke over den fattige?
Did I not weep for him that was hard pressed by misfortune? was not my soul grieved for the needy?
26 Thi der jeg forventede godt, da kom det onde, og der jeg haabede til Lys, da kom Mørkhed.
That I hoped for good, but there came evil; and I waited for light, and there came darkness!
27 Mine Indvolde syde og ere ikke stille; Elendigheds Dage ere komne over mig.
My bowels heave, and rest not: the days of affliction have overcome me.
28 Jeg gaar sort, uden Sol, jeg staar op, jeg skriger i Forsamlingen.
I walk about mournfully without sunlight: when I rise up, in the assembly, I cry with pain.
29 Jeg er bleven Dragers Broder og Strudses Stalbroder.
I am a brother to [howling] monsters, and a companion to ostriches.
30 Min Hud er bleven sort og falder af mig, og Benene i mig brænde af Hede.
My skin hangeth down black from me, and my bones are burnt from heat.
31 Og min Harpe er bleven til Sorrig, og min Fløjte til de grædendes Lyd.
And thus is changed to mourning my harp, and my pipe to the sound of weeping.
