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.
Now those who are younger than I have nothing but mockery for me— these young men whose fathers I would have refused to allow to work beside the dogs of my flock.
2 Ja, hvortil skulde deres Hænders Kraft have gavnet mig? hos dem er Styrken svundet bort.
Indeed, the strength of their fathers' hands, how could it have helped me— men in whom the strength of their mature age had perished?
3 De ere udtærede af Mangel og Hunger, de afgnave den golde Ørk, i Ødelæggelsens og Fordærvelsens Nat;
They were thin from poverty and hunger; they gnawed at the dry ground in the darkness of wilderness and desolation.
4 de oprykke Katost ved Buskene, og Gyveltræets Rod er deres Føde;
They plucked saltwort and bushes' leaves; the roots of the broom tree were their food.
5 de uddrives fra Samfundet, man skriger efter dem som efter en Tyv;
They were driven out from among people who shouted after them as one would shout after a thief.
6 de bo i Kløfter i Dalene, i Huler i Jorden og Klipper;
So they had to live in river valleys, in holes of the earth and of the rocks.
7 imellem Buske skryde de, de samles under Nælder.
Among the bushes they brayed like donkeys and they gathered together under the nettles.
8 Børn af Daarer, ja af Mænd uden Navn; de ere udstødte af Landet.
They were the sons of fools, indeed, sons of nameless people! They were driven out of the land with whips.
9 Men nu er jeg bleven en Spottesang for dem og maa tjene dem til Snak.
But now I have become the subject of their taunting song; I have become a byword for them.
10 De have Vederstyggelighed til mig, de holde sig langt fra mig og spare ikke at spytte mig i Ansigtet.
They abhor me and stand far off from me; they do not refrain from spitting in my face.
11 Thi de have løst Tøjlen af sig og plaget mig, og de have kastet Bidselet af for mit Ansigt.
For God has unstrung the string to my bow and afflicted me, and those who taunt me cast off restraint before my face.
12 Til højre for mig staar en Yngel frem, de støde mine Fødder bort, og de bane deres Fordærvelses Veje imod mig;
Upon my right hand rise the rabble; they drive me away and pile up against me their siege mounds.
13 de bryde min Sti op, de hjælpe til min Ulykke, de have ingen Hjælper;
They destroy my path; they push forward disaster for me, men who have no one to hold them back.
14 de komme som igennem et vidt Gab, de vælte sig frem under Bulder.
They come against me like an army through a wide hole in a city wall; in the midst of the destruction they roll themselves in on me.
15 Rædsler ere vendte imod mig, som et Stormvejr forfølge de min Herlighed, og min Frelse er gaaet forbi som en Sky.
Terrors are turned upon me; my honor is driven away as if by the wind; my prosperity passes away as a cloud.
16 Men nu er min Sjæl hensmeltet i mig, Elendigheds Dage komme over mig.
Now my life is pouring out from within me; many days of suffering have laid hold on me.
17 Natten gennemborer mine Ben, saa at de falde af mig, og mine nagende Smerter hvile ikke.
In the night my bones in me are pierced; the pains that gnaw at me take no rest.
18 Ved den overvættes Magt er min Klædning helt forandret, den omslutter mig som Kraven paa min Underkjortel.
God's great force has seized my clothing; it wraps around me like the collar of my tunic.
19 Han har kastet mig i Dyndet, og jeg er lignet ved Støv og Aske.
He has thrown me into the mud; I have 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 to you, God, but you do not answer me; I stand up, and you merely look at me.
21 Du har forvendt dig til at være grum imod mig; du modstaar mig med din Haands Styrke.
You have changed and become cruel to me; with the strength of your hand you persecute me.
22 Du løfter mig op i Stormvejret, du lader mig fare hen, og du lader mig forgaa i dets Brag.
You lift me up to the wind and cause it to drive me along; you throw me back and forth in a storm.
23 Thi jeg ved, du fører mig til Døden igen og til alle levendes Forsamlings Hus.
For I know that you will bring me to death, to the house appointed for all the living.
24 Mon en ikke udrækker Haanden i sit Fald? eller mon en ikke skriger i sin Ulykke?
However, does no one reach out with his hand to beg for help when he falls? Does no one in trouble call out for help?
25 Eller græd jeg ikke for den, som havde haarde Dage? ynkedes min Sjæl ikke over den fattige?
Did not I weep for him who was in trouble? Did I not grieve for the needy man?
26 Thi der jeg forventede godt, da kom det onde, og der jeg haabede til Lys, da kom Mørkhed.
When I hoped for good, then evil came; when I waited for light, darkness came instead.
27 Mine Indvolde syde og ere ikke stille; Elendigheds Dage ere komne over mig.
My heart is troubled and does not rest; days of affliction have come on me.
28 Jeg gaar sort, uden Sol, jeg staar op, jeg skriger i Forsamlingen.
I have gone about like one who was living in the dark, but not because of the sun; I stand up in the assembly and cry for help.
29 Jeg er bleven Dragers Broder og Strudses Stalbroder.
I am a brother to jackals, a companion of ostriches.
30 Min Hud er bleven sort og falder af mig, og Benene i mig brænde af Hede.
My skin is black and falls away from me; my bones are burned with heat.
31 Og min Harpe er bleven til Sorrig, og min Fløjte til de grædendes Lyd.
Therefore my harp is tuned for songs of mourning, my flute for the singing of those who wail.
