Job 4
1 Saa tog Temaniten Elifaz til Orde og sagde:
Then responded 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 unto thee, wilt thou be impatient? But, to restrain speech, who, can endure?
3 Du har selv talt mange til Rette og styrket de slappe Hænder,
Lo! thou hast admonished many, and, slack hands, hast thou been wont to uphold:
4 dine Ord holdt den segnende oppe, vaklende Knæ gav du Kraft —
Him that was stumbling, have thy words raised up, and, sinking knees, hast thou strengthened.
5 Men nu det gælder dig selv, saa taber du Modet, nu det rammer dig selv, er du slaget af Skræk!
But, now, it cometh upon thee, and thou despairest, It smiteth even thee, and thou art dismayed.
6 Er ikke din Gudsfrygt din Tillid, din fromme Færd dit Haab?
Is not, thy reverence, thy confidence? And is not, thy hope, the very integrity of thy ways?
7 Tænk efter! Hvem gik uskyldig til Grunde, hvor gik retsindige under?
Remember, I pray thee, who, being innocent, hath perished, or when, the upright, have been cut off.
8 Men det har jeg set: Hvo Uret pløjer og saar Fortræd, de høster det selv.
So far as I have seen, They who plow for iniquity and sow misery, 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, are they consumed:
10 Løvens Brøl og Vilddyrets Glam Ungløvernes Tænder slaas ud;
[Notwithstanding] the roaring of the lion, and the noise of the howling lion, yet, the teeth of the fierce lions, are broken:
11 Løven omkommer af Mangel paa Rov, og Løveungerne spredes.
The strong lion perishing for lack of prey, Even the whelps of the lioness, are scattered.
12 Der sneg sig til mig et Ord mit Øre opfanged dets Hvisken
But, unto me, something was brought by stealth, —and mine ear caught a whispering of the same:
13 i Nattesynernes Tanker, da Dvale sank over Mennesker;
When there were thoughts, from visions of the night, —When deep sleep falleth upon men,
14 Angst og Skælven kom over mig, alle mine Ledemod skjalv;
Dread, came upon me, and trembling, The multitude of my bones, it put in dread:
15 et Pust strøg over mit Ansigt, Haarene rejste sig paa min Krop.
Then, a spirit, over my face, floated along, The hair of my flesh bristled-up:
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 I could not distinguish its appearance, I looked, but there was no form before mine eyes, —A whispering voice, I heard: —
17 »Har et Menneske Ret for Gud, mon en Mand er ren for sin Skaber?
Shall, mortal man, be more just than GOD? Or a man be more pure than, his Maker?
18 End ikke sine Tjenere tror han, hos sine Engle finder han Fejl,
Lo! in his own servants, he trusteth not, and, his own messengers, he chargeth with error:
19 endsige hos dem, der bor i en Hytte af Ler og har deres Grundvold i Støvet!
How much more the dwellers in houses of clay, which, in the dust, have their foundation, which are crushed sooner than a moth:
20 De knuses ligesom Møl, imellem Morgen og Aften, de sønderslaas uden at ænses, for evigt gaar de til Grunde.
Betwixt morning and evening, are they broken in pieces, With none to save, they utterly perish:
21 Rives ej deres Teltreb ud? De dør, men ikke i Visdom.
Is not their tent-rope within them, torn away? They die, disrobed of wisdom!
