Job 24
1 Hvorfor har ej den Almægtige opsparet Tider, hvi faar de, som kender ham, ikke hans Dage at se?
Why are times not laid up by the Almighty? And why do not they that know Him see His days?
2 De onde flytter Markskel, ranede Hjorde har de paa Græs.
There are that remove the landmarks; they violently take away flocks, and feed 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 poor of the earth hide themselves together.
5 Som vilde Æsler i Ørkenen gaar de ud til deres Gerning søgende efter Næring; Steppen er Brød for Børnene.
Behold, as wild asses in the wilderness they go forth to their work, seeking diligently for food; the desert yieldeth them bread for their children.
6 De høster paa Marken om Natten, i Rigmandens Vingaard sanker de efter.
They cut his provender in the field; and they despoil the vineyard of the wicked.
7 Om Natten ligger de nøgne, uden Klæder, uden Tæppe i Kulden.
They lie all 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 embrace the rock for want of a shelter.
9 — Man river den faderløse fra Brystet, tager den armes Barn som Borgen. —
There are that pluck the fatherless from the breast, and take a pledge of the poor;
10 Nøgne vandrer de, uden Klæder, sultne bærer de Neg;
So that they go about naked without clothing, and being hungry they carry the sheaves;
11 mellem Murene presser de Olie, de træder Persen og tørster.
They make oil within the rows of these men; they tread their winepresses, and suffer thirst.
12 De drives fra By og Hus, og Børnenes Hunger skriger. Men Gud, han ænser ej vrangt.
From out of the populous city men groan, and the soul of the wounded crieth out; yet God imputeth it not for unseemliness.
13 Andre hører til Lysets Fjender, de kender ikke hans Veje og holder sig ej paa hans Stier:
These are of them 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, to kill the poor and needy; and in the night he is as a thief.
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, 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; they shut themselves up in the day-time; they know not the light.
17 For dem er Mørket Morgen, thi de er kendt med Mørkets Rædsler.
For the shadow of death is to all of them as the morning; for they know 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 upon the face of the waters; their portion is cursed in the earth; he turneth not by the way of the vineyards.
Drought and heat consume the snow waters; so doth the nether-world 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 devoureth 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 away the mighty also by his power; he riseth up, and he trusteth not his own life.
23 han styrtes uden Haab og Støtte, og paa hans Veje er idel Nød.
Though it be given him to be in safety, whereon he resteth, yet 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 while, and they are gone; yea, they are brought low, they are gathered in as all others, and wither as the tops of the ears of corn.
25 Og hvis ikke — hvo gør mig til Løgner, hvo gør mine Ord til intet?
And if it be not so now, who will prove me a liar, and make my speech nothing worth?
