Job 6
1 Men Job svarede og sagde:
Then Job answered and said:
2 Gid min Harm maatte vejes, og man ligervis vilde lægge min Ulykke i Vægtskaaler!
O that my grief were weighed thoroughly! That my calamities were put together in the balance!
3 Thi den er nu svarere end Sand i Havet; derfor bruse mine Ord frem.
Surely they would be heavier than the sand of the sea; On this account were my words rash.
4 Thi den Almægtiges Pile ere i mig, min Aand inddrikker deres Gift; Guds Rædsler stille sig op imod mig.
For the arrows of the Almighty have pierced me; Their poison drinketh up my spirit; The terrors of God set themselves in array against me.
5 Mon Vildæselet skryder, naar det har Græs? eller mon Oksen bøger, naar den har Foder?
Doth the wild ass bray in the midst of grass? Or loweth the ox over his fodder?
6 Mon det vamle kan ædes uden Salt? eller er der Smag i det hvide om Æggeblommen?
Can that which is unsavory be eaten without salt? Is there any taste in the white of an egg?
7 Hvad min Sjæl vægrede sig ved at røre, det er blevet mig som en usund Spise.
That which my soul abhorreth to touch Hath become my loathsome food.
8 Gid det, jeg begærer, maatte komme, og Gud vilde opfylde mit Haab!
O that I might have my request, And that God would grant me that which I long for!
9 og at Gud vilde knuse mig, at han vilde lade sin Haand løs og afskære mig!
That it would please God to destroy me; That he would let loose his hand, and make an end of me!
10 Da havde jeg endnu Trøst og kunde glæde mig i Smerten, i hvilken han ikke skaaner; thi jeg har ikke fornægtet den helliges Tale.
Yet it should still be my consolation, Yea, in unsparing anguish I would exult, That I have not denied the commands of the Holy One.
11 Hvad er min Kraft, at jeg skulde haabe? og hvad Ende venter mig, at jeg skulde forlænge mit Liv?
What is my strength, that I should hope? And what mine end, that I should be patient?
12 Mon min Kraft er Kraft af Sten? mon mit Kød er af Kobber?
Is my strength the strength of stones? Or is my flesh brass?
13 Sandelig, der er ikke Hjælp i mig, og Kraften er vegen fra mig!
Alas, there is no help within me! Deliverance is driven from me!
14 Den ulykkelige kan kræve Medynk af sin Ven, selv om han forlader den Almægtiges Frygt.
To the afflicted, kindness should be shown by a friend; Else he casteth off the fear of the Almighty.
15 Mine Brødre have skuffet som en Bæk, som i Dalene Strømme, der fare forbi,
But my brethren are faithless like a brook; Like streams of the valley that pass away;
16 de, der ere mørke af Is, i hvilke Sneen skjuler sig.
Which are turbid by reason of the ice, And the snow, which hideth itself in them.
17 Paa den Tid de optøes, da blive de borte; naar det bliver hedt, da forsvinde de fra deres Sted.
As soon as they flow forth, they vanish; When the heat cometh, they are dried up from their place.
18 Rejsetog bøje af fra deres Vej, de drage op i Ørken og omkomme.
The caravans turn aside to them on their way; They go up into the desert, and perish.
19 Rejsetog fra Thema skuede hen efter dem, vejfarende fra Seba satte Lid til dem.
The caravans of Tema look for them; The companies of Sheba expect to see them;
20 De bluedes, at de havde forladt sig paa dem; de kom lige til dem og bleve skuffede.
They are ashamed that they have relied on them; They come to their place, and are confounded.
21 Saaledes ere I nu blevne som intet; I se Rædsel og frygte.
So ye also are nothing; Ye see a terror, and shrink back.
22 Mon jeg har sagt: Giver mig og skænker for min Skyld noget af eders Formue?
Have I said, Bring me gifts? Or, Give a present for me out of your substance?
23 eller redder mig af Fjendens Haand, og udløser mig af Voldsmænds Haand?
Or, Deliver me from the enemy's hand? Or, Rescue me from the hand of the violent?
24 Lærer mig, og jeg vil tie, og viser mig, hvori jeg har faret vild.
Convince me, and I will hold my peace; Cause me to understand wherein I have erred.
25 Hvad ere Oprigtigheds Taler kraftige! Men hvad bevise eders Beviser?
How powerful are the words of truth! But what do your reproaches prove?
26 Agte I Ord for at være Bevis og den mistrøstiges Taler for Mundsvejr?
Do ye mean to censure words? The words of a man in despair are but wind.
27 Ja, I kunne kaste Lod om en faderløs og grave Grav for eders Næste.
Truly ye spread a net for the fatherless; Ye dig a pit for your friend.
28 Og nu, om I ville, da vender Ansigtet til mig, og mon jeg skulde lyve for eders Ansigt?
Look now upon me, I pray you; For to your very face can I speak falsehood?
29 Kære, vender om, lader Uretfærdighed ikke ske; ja, vender om, endnu skal min Retfærdighed kendes i denne Sag!
Return, I pray, and let there be no unfairness; Yea, return; —still is my cause righteous.
30 Mon der være Uret paa min Tunge? mon min Gane ikke skulde skelne, hvad ondt er?
Is there iniquity on my tongue? Cannot my taste discern what is sinful?
