Job 4
1 Saa tog Temaniten Elifaz til Orde og sagde:
Then spake Eliphaz the Temanite, and said:
2 Ærgrer det dig, om man taler til dig? Men hvem kan her være tavs?
If one attempt a word with thee, wilt thou be offended? But who can refrain from speaking?
3 Du har selv talt mange til Rette og styrket de slappe Hænder,
Behold, thou hast admonished many; Thou hast strengthened feeble hands;
4 dine Ord holdt den segnende oppe, vaklende Knæ gav du Kraft —
Thy words have upheld him that was falling, And thou hast given strength to feeble knees.
5 Men nu det gælder dig selv, saa taber du Modet, nu det rammer dig selv, er du slaget af Skræk!
But now it is come upon thee, and thou faintest; It toucheth thee, and thou art confounded!
6 Er ikke din Gudsfrygt din Tillid, din fromme Færd dit Haab?
Is not thy fear of God thy hope, And the uprightness of thy ways thy confidence?
7 Tænk efter! Hvem gik uskyldig til Grunde, hvor gik retsindige under?
Remember, I pray thee, who ever perished being innocent? Or where have the righteous been cut off?
8 Men det har jeg set: Hvo Uret pløjer og saar Fortræd, de høster det selv.
According to what I have seen, they who plough iniquity, And sow mischief, reap the same.
9 For Guds Aand gaar de til Grunde, for hans Vredes Pust gaar de til.
By the blast of God they perish, And by the breath of his nostrils they are consumed.
10 Løvens Brøl og Vilddyrets Glam Ungløvernes Tænder slaas ud;
The roaring of the lion, and the voice of the fierce lion, And the teeth of the young lions are broken.
11 Løven omkommer af Mangel paa Rov, og Løveungerne spredes.
The fierce lion perisheth for lack of prey, And the whelps of the lioness are scattered abroad.
12 Der sneg sig til mig et Ord mit Øre opfanged dets Hvisken
A word was once secretly brought to me, And mine ear caught a whisper thereof.
13 i Nattesynernes Tanker, da Dvale sank over Mennesker;
Amid thoughts from visions of the night, When deep sleep falleth upon men,
14 Angst og Skælven kom over mig, alle mine Ledemod skjalv;
A fear and a horror came upon me, Which made all my bones to shake.
15 et Pust strøg over mit Ansigt, Haarene rejste sig paa min Krop.
Then a spirit passed before my face, The hair of my flesh rose on end;
16 Saa stod det stille! Jeg sansed ikke, hvordan det saa ud; en Skikkelse stod for mit Øje, jeg hørte en hviskende Stemme:
It stood still, but its form I could not discern; An image was before mine eyes; There was silence, and I heard a voice:
17 »Har et Menneske Ret for Gud, mon en Mand er ren for sin Skaber?
“Shall mortal man be more just than God? Shall man be more pure than his Maker?
18 End ikke sine Tjenere tror han, hos sine Engle finder han Fejl,
Behold, he putteth no trust in his ministering spirits, And his angels he chargeth with frailty.
19 endsige hos dem, der bor i en Hytte af Ler og har deres Grundvold i Støvet!
What then are they who dwell in houses of clay, Whose foundation is in the dust, Who crumble to pieces, as if moth-eaten!
20 De knuses ligesom Møl, imellem Morgen og Aften, de sønderslaas uden at ænses, for evigt gaar de til Grunde.
Between morning and evening are they destroyed; They perish for ever, and none regardeth it.
21 Rives ej deres Teltreb ud? De dør, men ikke i Visdom.
The excellency that is in them is torn away; They die before they have become wise.”
