Job 24
1 Hvorfor har ej den Almægtige opsparet Tider, hvi faar de, som kender ham, ikke hans Dage at se?
Why are not times treasured up with the Almighty? why do not they that know him see his days?
2 De onde flytter Markskel, ranede Hjorde har de paa Græs.
They remove the landmarks; they violently take away the flocks and pasture them;
3 faderløses Æsel fører de bort, tager Enkens Okse som Borgen:
They drive away the ass of the fatherless, they take the widow's ox for a pledge;
4 de trænger de fattige af Vejen. Landets arme maa alle skjule sig.
They turn the needy out of the way: the afflicted of the land all hide themselves.
5 Som vilde Æsler i Ørkenen gaar de ud til deres Gerning søgende efter Næring; Steppen er Brød for Børnene.
Lo, [as] wild asses in the desert, they go forth to their work, seeking early for the prey: the wilderness [yieldeth] them food for [their] children.
6 De høster paa Marken om Natten, i Rigmandens Vingaard sanker de efter.
They reap in the field the fodder thereof, and they gather the vintage of the wicked;
7 Om Natten ligger de nøgne, uden Klæder, uden Tæppe i Kulden.
They pass the night naked without clothing, and have no covering in the cold;
8 De vædes af Bjergenes Regnskyl, klamrer sig af Mangel paa Ly til Klippen.
They are wet with the showers of the mountains, and for want of a shelter embrace the rock...
9 — Man river den faderløse fra Brystet, tager den armes Barn som Borgen. —
They pluck the fatherless from the breast, and take a pledge of the poor:
10 Nøgne vandrer de, uden Klæder, sultne bærer de Neg;
These go naked without clothing, and, hungry, they bear the sheaf;
11 mellem Murene presser de Olie, de træder Persen og tørster.
They press out oil within their walls, they tread their winepresses, and suffer thirst.
12 De drives fra By og Hus, og Børnenes Hunger skriger. Men Gud, han ænser ej vrangt.
Men groan from out of the city, and the soul of the wounded crieth out; and God imputeth not the impiety.
13 Andre hører til Lysets Fjender, de kender ikke hans Veje og holder sig ej paa hans Stier:
There are those that rebel against the light; they know not the ways thereof, nor abide in the paths thereof.
14 Før det lysner, staar Morderen op, han myrder arm og fattig; om Natten sniger Tyven sig om;
The murderer riseth with the light, killeth the afflicted and needy, and in the night is as a thief.
15 Horkarlens Øje lurer paa Skumring, han tænker: »Intet Øje kan se mig!« og skjuler sit Ansigt under en Maske.
And the eye of the adulterer waiteth for the twilight, saying, No eye shall see me; and he putteth a covering on [his] face.
16 I Mørke bryder de ind i Huse, de lukker sig inde om Dagen, thi ingen af dem vil vide af Lys.
In the dark they dig through houses; by day they shut themselves in; they know not the light:
17 For dem er Mørket Morgen, thi de er kendt med Mørkets Rædsler.
For the morning is to them all [as] the shadow of death; for they are familiar with the terrors of the shadow of death.
18 Over Vandfladen jages han hen, hans Arvelod i Landet forbandes, han færdes ikke paa Vejen til Vingaarden.
He is swift on the face of the waters; their portion is cursed on the earth: he turneth not unto the way of the vineyards.
Drought and heat consume snow waters; so doth Sheol those that have sinned. (Sheol h7585)
20 Han er glemt paa sin Hjemstavns Torv, hans Storhed kommes ej mer i Hu, Uretten knækkes som Træet.
The womb forgetteth him; the worm feedeth sweetly on him: he shall be no more remembered; and unrighteousness is broken as a tree, —
21 Han var ond mod den golde, der ikke fødte, mod Enken gjorde han ikke vel;
He that despoileth the barren that beareth not, and doeth not good to the widow:
22 dem, det gik skævt, rev han bort i sin Vælde. Han staar op og er ikke tryg paa sit Liv,
He draweth also the mighty with his power; he riseth up, and no [man] is sure of life.
23 han styrtes uden Haab og Støtte, og paa hans Veje er idel Nød.
[God] setteth him in safety, and he resteth thereon; but his eyes are upon their ways.
24 Hans Storhed er stakket, saa er han ej mer, han bøjes og skrumper ind som Melde og skæres af som Aksenes Top.
They are exalted for a little, and are no more; they are laid low; like all [other] are they gathered, and are cut off as the tops of the ears of corn.
25 Og hvis ikke — hvo gør mig til Løgner, hvo gør mine Ord til intet?
If it be not so now, who will make me a liar, and make my speech nothing worth?
