Job 24
1 Hvorfor har ej den Almægtige opsparet Tider, hvi faar de, som kender ham, ikke hans Dage at se?
Howe should not the times be hid from the Almightie, seeing that they which knowe him, see not his dayes?
2 De onde flytter Markskel, ranede Hjorde har de paa Græs.
Some remoue the land marks, that rob the flockes and feede thereof.
3 faderløses Æsel fører de bort, tager Enkens Okse som Borgen:
They leade away the asse of the fatherles: and take the widowes oxe to pledge.
4 de trænger de fattige af Vejen. Landets arme maa alle skjule sig.
They make the poore to turne out of the way, so that the poore of the earth hide themselues together.
5 Som vilde Æsler i Ørkenen gaar de ud til deres Gerning søgende efter Næring; Steppen er Brød for Børnene.
Behold, others as wilde asses in the wildernesse, goe forth to their businesse, and rise early for a praye: the wildernesse giueth him and his children foode.
6 De høster paa Marken om Natten, i Rigmandens Vingaard sanker de efter.
They reape his prouision in the fielde, but they gather the late vintage of the wicked.
7 Om Natten ligger de nøgne, uden Klæder, uden Tæppe i Kulden.
They cause the naked to lodge without garment, and without couering in the colde.
8 De vædes af Bjergenes Regnskyl, klamrer sig af Mangel paa Ly til Klippen.
They are wet with the showres of the moutaines, and they imbrace the rocke for want of a couering.
9 — Man river den faderløse fra Brystet, tager den armes Barn som Borgen. —
They plucke the fatherles from the breast, and take the pledge of the poore.
10 Nøgne vandrer de, uden Klæder, sultne bærer de Neg;
They cause him to go naked without clothing, and take the glening from the hungrie.
11 mellem Murene presser de Olie, de træder Persen og tørster.
They that make oyle betweene their walles, and treade their wine presses, suffer thirst.
12 De drives fra By og Hus, og Børnenes Hunger skriger. Men Gud, han ænser ej vrangt.
Men cry out of the citie, and the soules of the slayne cry out: yet God doth not charge them with follie.
13 Andre hører til Lysets Fjender, de kender ikke hans Veje og holder sig ej paa hans Stier:
These are they, that abhorre the light: they know not the wayes thereof, nor continue in the paths thereof.
14 Før det lysner, staar Morderen op, han myrder arm og fattig; om Natten sniger Tyven sig om;
The murtherer riseth earely and killeth the poore and the needie: and in the night he is as a theefe.
15 Horkarlens Øje lurer paa Skumring, han tænker: »Intet Øje kan se mig!« og skjuler sit Ansigt under en Maske.
The eye also of the adulterer waiteth for the twilight, and sayth, None eye shall see me, and disguiseth his face.
16 I Mørke bryder de ind i Huse, de lukker sig inde om Dagen, thi ingen af dem vil vide af Lys.
They digge through houses in the darke, which they marked for themselues in the daye: they knowe not the light.
17 For dem er Mørket Morgen, thi de er kendt med Mørkets Rædsler.
But the morning is euen to them as the shadow of death: if one knowe them, they are in the terrours of the shadowe of death.
18 Over Vandfladen jages han hen, hans Arvelod i Landet forbandes, han færdes ikke paa Vejen til Vingaarden.
He is swift vpon the waters: their portion shalbe cursed in the earth: he will not behold the way of the vineyardes.
As the dry ground and heate consume the snowe waters, so shall the graue the sinners. (Sheol h7585)
20 Han er glemt paa sin Hjemstavns Torv, hans Storhed kommes ej mer i Hu, Uretten knækkes som Træet.
The pitifull man shall forget him: the worme shall feele his sweetenes: he shalbe no more remembered, and the wicked shalbe broke like a tree.
21 Han var ond mod den golde, der ikke fødte, mod Enken gjorde han ikke vel;
He doth euil intreat ye barren, that doeth not beare, neither doeth he good to the widowe.
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 by his power, and when he riseth vp, none is sure of life.
23 han styrtes uden Haab og Støtte, og paa hans Veje er idel Nød.
Though men giue him assurance to be in safetie, yet his eyes are vpon their wayes.
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 litle, but they are gone, and are brought lowe as all others: they are destroyed, and cut off as the toppe of an eare of corne.
25 Og hvis ikke — hvo gør mig til Løgner, hvo gør mine Ord til intet?
But if it be not so, where is he? or who wil proue me a lyer, and make my words of no value?
