Job 4
1 Saa tog Temaniten Elifaz til Orde og sagde:
Then Eliphaz the Temanite answered,
2 Ærgrer det dig, om man taler til dig? Men hvem kan her være tavs?
“If someone ventures to talk with you, will you be grieved? But who can withhold himself from speaking?
3 Du har selv talt mange til Rette og styrket de slappe Hænder,
Behold, you have instructed many, you have strengthened the weak hands.
4 dine Ord holdt den segnende oppe, vaklende Knæ gav du Kraft —
Your words have supported him who was falling, you have made the feeble knees firm.
5 Men nu det gælder dig selv, saa taber du Modet, nu det rammer dig selv, er du slaget af Skræk!
But now it has come to you, and you faint. It touches you, and you are troubled.
6 Er ikke din Gudsfrygt din Tillid, din fromme Færd dit Haab?
Isn’t your piety your confidence? Isn’t the integrity of your ways your hope?
7 Tænk efter! Hvem gik uskyldig til Grunde, hvor gik retsindige under?
“Remember, now, who ever perished, being innocent? Or where were the upright cut off?
8 Men det har jeg set: Hvo Uret pløjer og saar Fortræd, de høster det selv.
According to what I have seen, those who plough iniquity and sow trouble, reap the same.
9 For Guds Aand gaar de til Grunde, for hans Vredes Pust gaar de til.
By the breath of God they perish. By the blast of his anger are they consumed.
10 Løvens Brøl og Vilddyrets Glam Ungløvernes Tænder slaas ud;
The roaring of the lion, and the voice of the fierce lion, the teeth of the young lions, are broken.
11 Løven omkommer af Mangel paa Rov, og Løveungerne spredes.
The old lion perishes for lack of prey. The cubs of the lioness are scattered abroad.
12 Der sneg sig til mig et Ord mit Øre opfanged dets Hvisken
“Now a thing was secretly brought to me. My ear received a whisper of it.
13 i Nattesynernes Tanker, da Dvale sank over Mennesker;
In thoughts from the visions of the night, when deep sleep falls on men,
14 Angst og Skælven kom over mig, alle mine Ledemod skjalv;
fear came on me, and trembling, which made all my bones 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 stood 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 couldn’t discern its appearance. A form was before my eyes. Silence, then I heard a voice, saying,
17 »Har et Menneske Ret for Gud, mon en Mand er ren for sin Skaber?
‘Shall mortal man be more just than God? Shall a man be more pure than his Maker?
18 End ikke sine Tjenere tror han, hos sine Engle finder han Fejl,
Behold, he puts no trust in his servants. He charges his angels with error.
19 endsige hos dem, der bor i en Hytte af Ler og har deres Grundvold i Støvet!
How much more those who dwell in houses of clay, whose foundation is in the dust, who are crushed before the moth!
20 De knuses ligesom Møl, imellem Morgen og Aften, de sønderslaas uden at ænses, for evigt gaar de til Grunde.
Between morning and evening they are destroyed. They perish forever without any regarding it.
21 Rives ej deres Teltreb ud? De dør, men ikke i Visdom.
Isn’t their tent cord plucked up within them? They die, and that without wisdom.’
