Job 27
1 Job vedblev at fremsætte sit Tankesprog:
And Job again took up his parable, and said:
2 Saa sandt Gud lever, som satte min Ret til Side, den Almægtige, som gjorde mig mod i Hu:
As God liveth, who hath taken away my right; and the Almighty, who hath dealt bitterly with me;
3 Saa længe jeg drager Aande og har Guds Aande i Næsen,
All the while my breath is in me, and the spirit of God is in my nostrils,
4 skal mine Læber ej tale Uret, min Tunge ej fare med Svig!
Surely my lips shall not speak unrighteousness, neither shall my tongue utter deceit;
5 Langt være det fra mig at give jer Ret; til jeg udaander, opgiver jeg ikke min Uskyld.
Far be it from me that I should justify you; till I die I will not put away mine integrity from me.
6 Jeg hævder min Ret, jeg slipper den ikke, ingen af mine Dage piner mit Sind.
My righteousness I hold fast, and will not let it go; my heart shall not reproach me so long as I live.
7 Som den gudløse gaa det min Fjende, min Modstander som den lovløse!
Let mine enemy be as the wicked, and let him that riseth up against me be as the unrighteous.
8 Thi hvad er den vanhelliges Haab, naar Gud bortskærer og kræver hans Sjæl?
For what is the hope of the godless, though he get him gain, when God taketh away his soul?
9 Hører mon Gud hans Skrig, naar Angst kommer over ham?
Will God hear his cry, when trouble cometh upon him?
10 Mon han kan fryde sig over den Almægtige, føjer han ham, naar han paakalder ham?
Will he have his delight in the Almighty, and call upon God at all times?
11 Jeg vil lære jer om Guds Haand, den Almægtiges Tanker dølger jeg ikke;
I will teach you concerning the hand of God; that which is with the Almighty will I not conceal.
12 se, selv har I alle set det, hvi har I saa tomme Tanker?
Behold, all ye yourselves have seen it; why then are ye become altogether vain?
13 Det er den gudløses Lod fra Gud, Arven, som Voldsmænd faar fra den Almægtige:
This is the portion of a wicked man with God, and the heritage of oppressors, which they receive from the Almighty.
14 Vokser hans Sønner, er det for Sværdet, hans Afkom mættes ikke med Brød;
If his children be multiplied, it is for the sword; and his offspring shall not have bread enough.
15 de øvrige bringer Pesten i Graven, deres Enker kan ej holde Klage over dem.
Those that remain of him shall be buried by pestilence, and his widows shall make no lamentation.
16 Opdynger han Sølv som Støv og samler sig Klæder som Ler —
Though he heap up silver as the dust, and prepare raiment as the clay;
17 han samler, men den retfærdige klæder sig i dem, og Sølvet arver den skyldfri;
He may prepare it, but the just shall put it on, and the innocent shall divide the silver.
18 han bygger sit Hus som en Edderkops, som Hytten, en Vogter gør sig;
He buildeth his house as a moth, and as a booth which the keeper maketh.
19 han lægger sig rig, men for sidste Gang, han slaar Øjnene op, og er det ej mer;
He lieth down rich, but there shall be not to gather; he openeth his eyes, and his wealth is not.
20 Rædsler naar ham som Vande, ved Nat river Stormen ham bort;
Terrors overtake him like waters; a tempest stealeth him away in the night.
21 løftet af Østenstorm farer han bort, den fejer ham væk fra hans Sted.
The east wind carrieth him away, and he departeth; and it sweepeth him out of his place.
22 Skaanselsløst skyder han paa ham, i Hast maa han fly fra hans Haand;
Yea, it hurleth at him, and spareth not; he would fain flee from its power.
23 man klapper i Hænderne mod ham og piber ham bort fra hans Sted!
Men shall clap their hands at him, and shall hiss him out of his place.
