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:
So then Job began, and said:
3 Bort med den Dag, jeg fødtes, den Nat, der sagde: »Se, en Dreng!«
Perish, the day wherein I was born, and the night it was said, Lo! a manchild!
4 Denne Dag vorde Mørke, Gud deroppe spørge ej om den, over den straale ej Lyset frem!
That day, be it darkness, —Let not God enquire after it from above, May there shine upon it no clear beam:
5 Mulm og Mørke løse den ind, Taage lægge sig over den, Formørkelser skræmme den!
Let darkness and death-shade buy it back, May there settle down upon it a cloud, Let a day’s dark eclipse cause it terror:
6 Mørket tage den Nat, den høre ej hjemme blandt Aarets Dage, den komme ikke i Maaneders Tal!
That night, darkness take it, —May it not rejoice among the days of the year, Into the number of months, let it not enter.
7 Ja, denne Nat vorde gold, der lyde ej Jubel i den!
Lo! that night, be it barren, Let no joyous shouting enter therein:
8 De, der besværger Dage, forbande den, de, der har lært at hidse Livjatan;
Let day-cursers denounce it, Those skilled in rousing the dragon of the sky:
9 dens Morgenstjerner formørkes, den bie forgæves paa Lys, den skue ej Morgenrødens Øjenlaag,
Darkened be the stars of its twilight, —Let it wait for light, and there be none, neither let it see the eyelashes of the dawn:
10 fordi den ej lukked mig Moderlivets Døre og skjulte Kvide for mit Blik!
Because it closed not the doors of the womb wherein I was, and so hid trouble from mine eyes.
11 Hvi døde jeg ikke i Moders Liv eller udaanded straks fra Moders Skød?
Wherefore, in the womb, did I not die? From the womb, come forth and cease to breathe?
12 Hvorfor var der Knæ til at tage imod mig, hvorfor var der Bryster at die?
For what reason, were there prepared for me—knees? and why—breasts, that I might suck?
13 Saa havde jeg nu ligget og hvilet, saa havde jeg slumret i Fred
Surely, at once, had I lain down, and been quiet, I had fallen asleep, then, had I been at rest:
14 blandt Konger og Jordens Styrere, der bygged sig Gravpaladser,
With kings, and counselors of the earth, who had built them pyramids:
15 blandt Fyrster, rige paa Guld, som fyldte deres Huse med Sølv.
Or with rulers possessing, gold, —Who had filled their houses with silver:
16 Eller var jeg dog som et nedgravet Foster, som Børn, der ikke fik Lyset at se!
Or that, like an untimely birth hidden away, I had not come into being, like infants that never saw light:
17 Der larmer de gudløse ikke mer, der hviler de trætte ud,
There, the lawless, cease from raging, and there the toil-worn are at rest:
18 alle de fangne har Ro, de hører ej Fogedens Røst;
At once are prisoners at peace, they hear not the voice of a driver:
19 smaa og store er lige der og Trællen fri for sin Herre.
Small and great, there, they are, and, the slave, is free from his master.
20 Hvi giver Gud de lidende Lys, de bittert sørgende Liv,
Wherefore give, to the wretched, light? Or, life, to the embittered in soul?—
21 dem, som bier forgæves paa Døden, graver derefter som efter Skatte,
Who long for death, and it is not, And have digged for it, beyond hid treasures:
22 som glæder sig til en Stenhøj, jubler, naar de finder deres Grav —
Who rejoice unto exultation, 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 concealed, And GOD hath straitly enclosed him?
24 Thi Suk er blevet mit daglige Brød, mine Ve raab strømmer som Vand.
For, in the face of my food, my sighing, cometh in, and, poured out like the water, are my groans:
25 Thi hvad jeg gruer for, rammer mig, hvad jeg bæver for, kommer over mig.
For, a dread, I dreaded, and it hath come upon me, and, that from which I shrank, hath overtaken me.
26 Knap har jeg Fred, og knap har jeg Ro, knap har jeg Hvile, saa kommer Uro!
I was not careless, nor was I secure, nor had I settled down, —when there came—consternation!
