Job 3
1 Derefter oplod Job sin Mund og forbandede sin Dag,
After this opened Job his mouth, and cursed his day.
2 og Job tog til Orde og sagde:
And Job spoke, and said:
3 Bort med den Dag, jeg fødtes, den Nat, der sagde: »Se, en Dreng!«
Let the day perish wherein I was born, and the night wherein it was said: 'A man-child is brought forth.'
4 Denne Dag vorde Mørke, Gud deroppe spørge ej om den, over den straale ej Lyset frem!
Let that day be darkness; let not God inquire after it from above, neither let the light shine upon it.
5 Mulm og Mørke løse den ind, Taage lægge sig over den, Formørkelser skræmme den!
Let darkness and the shadow of death claim it for their own; let a cloud dwell upon it; let all that maketh black the day terrify it.
6 Mørket tage den Nat, den høre ej hjemme blandt Aarets Dage, den komme ikke i Maaneders Tal!
As for that night, let thick darkness seize upon it; let it not rejoice among the days of the year; let it not come into the number of the months.
7 Ja, denne Nat vorde gold, der lyde ej Jubel i den!
Lo, let that night be desolate; let no joyful voice come therein.
8 De, der besværger Dage, forbande den, de, der har lært at hidse Livjatan;
Let them curse it that curse the day, who are ready to rouse up leviathan.
9 dens Morgenstjerner formørkes, den bie forgæves paa Lys, den skue ej Morgenrødens Øjenlaag,
Let the stars of the twilight thereof be dark; let it look for light, but have none; neither let it behold the eyelids of the morning;
10 fordi den ej lukked mig Moderlivets Døre og skjulte Kvide for mit Blik!
Because it shut not up the doors of my mother's womb, nor hid trouble from mine eyes.
11 Hvi døde jeg ikke i Moders Liv eller udaanded straks fra Moders Skød?
Why died I not from the womb? Why did I not perish at birth?
12 Hvorfor var der Knæ til at tage imod mig, hvorfor var der Bryster at die?
Why did the knees receive me? And wherefore the breasts, that I should suck?
13 Saa havde jeg nu ligget og hvilet, saa havde jeg slumret i Fred
For now should I have lain still and been quiet; I should have slept; then had I been at rest —
14 blandt Konger og Jordens Styrere, der bygged sig Gravpaladser,
With kings and counsellors of the earth, who built up waste places for themselves;
15 blandt Fyrster, rige paa Guld, som fyldte deres Huse med Sølv.
Or with princes that had gold, who filled their houses with silver;
16 Eller var jeg dog som et nedgravet Foster, som Børn, der ikke fik Lyset at se!
Or as a hidden untimely birth I had not been; as infants that never saw light.
17 Der larmer de gudløse ikke mer, der hviler de trætte ud,
There the wicked cease from troubling; and there the weary are at rest.
18 alle de fangne har Ro, de hører ej Fogedens Røst;
There the prisoners are at ease together; they hear not the voice of the taskmaster.
19 smaa og store er lige der og Trællen fri for sin Herre.
The small and great are there alike; and the servant is free from his master.
20 Hvi giver Gud de lidende Lys, de bittert sørgende Liv,
Wherewith is light given to him that is in misery, and life unto the bitter in soul —
21 dem, som bier forgæves paa Døden, graver derefter som efter Skatte,
Who long for death, but it cometh not; and dig for it more than for hid treasures;
22 som glæder sig til en Stenhøj, jubler, naar de finder deres Grav —
Who rejoice unto exultation, and are glad, when they can find the grave? —
23 en Mand, hvis Vej er skjult, hvem Gud har stænget inde?
To a man whose way is hid, and whom God hath hedged in?
24 Thi Suk er blevet mit daglige Brød, mine Ve raab strømmer som Vand.
For my sighing cometh instead of my food, and my roarings are poured out like water.
25 Thi hvad jeg gruer for, rammer mig, hvad jeg bæver for, kommer over mig.
For the thing which I did fear is come upon me, and that which I was afraid of hath overtaken me.
26 Knap har jeg Fred, og knap har jeg Ro, knap har jeg Hvile, saa kommer Uro!
I was not at ease, neither was I quiet, neither had I rest; but trouble came.
