Job 3
1 Derefter oplod Job sin Mund og forbandede sin Dag,
After this Job opened his mouth, and cursed his day.
2 og Job tog til Orde og sagde:
Job answered:
3 Bort med den Dag, jeg fødtes, den Nat, der sagde: »Se, en Dreng!«
"Let the day perish in which I was born, the night which said, 'A man is conceived.'
4 Denne Dag vorde Mørke, Gud deroppe spørge ej om den, over den straale ej Lyset frem!
Let that day be darkness. May God above not care about it, neither let the light shine on 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 on it. Let the blackness of 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 on 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!
Look, let that night be barren. Let no joyful voice come in it.
8 De, der besværger Dage, forbande den, de, der har lært at hidse Livjatan;
Let them curse it who 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 its twilight be dark. Let it look for light, but have none, neither let it see the eyelids of the morning,
10 fordi den ej lukked mig Moderlivets Døre og skjulte Kvide for mit Blik!
because it did not shut up the doors of my mother's womb, nor did it hide trouble from my eyes.
11 Hvi døde jeg ikke i Moders Liv eller udaanded straks fra Moders Skød?
"Why did I not die from the womb? Why did I not give up the spirit when my mother bore me?
12 Hvorfor var der Knæ til at tage imod mig, hvorfor var der Bryster at die?
Why did the knees receive me? Or why the breast, that I should suck?
13 Saa havde jeg nu ligget og hvilet, saa havde jeg slumret i Fred
For now should I have lain down and been quiet. I should have slept, then I would have been at rest,
14 blandt Konger og Jordens Styrere, der bygged sig Gravpaladser,
with kings and counselors 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 who 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 who never saw light.
17 Der larmer de gudløse ikke mer, der hviler de trætte ud,
There the wicked cease from troubling. 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 do not hear the voice of the taskmaster.
19 smaa og store er lige der og Trællen fri for sin Herre.
The small and the great are there. The servant is free from his master.
20 Hvi giver Gud de lidende Lys, de bittert sørgende Liv,
"Why is light given to him who is in misery, life to the bitter in soul,
21 dem, som bier forgæves paa Døden, graver derefter som efter Skatte,
Who long for death, but it doesn't come; and dig for it more than for hidden treasures,
22 som glæder sig til en Stenhøj, jubler, naar de finder deres Grav —
who rejoice exceedingly, and are glad, when they can find the grave?
23 en Mand, hvis Vej er skjult, hvem Gud har stænget inde?
Why is light given to a man whose way is hid, whom God has hedged in?
24 Thi Suk er blevet mit daglige Brød, mine Ve raab strømmer som Vand.
For my sighing comes before I eat. My groanings 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 fear comes on me, That which I am afraid of comes to me.
26 Knap har jeg Fred, og knap har jeg Ro, knap har jeg Hvile, saa kommer Uro!
I am not at ease, neither am I quiet, neither have I rest; but trouble comes."
