Job 41
1 Kan du trække Krokodillen op med Krog og binde dens Tunge med Snøre?
Can thou draw out leviathan with a fishhook, or press down his tongue with a cord?
2 Kan du mon stikke et Siv i dens Snude, bore en Krog igennem dens Kæber?
Can thou put a rope into his nose, or pierce his jaw through with a hook?
3 Mon den vil trygle dig længe og give dig gode Ord?
Will he make many supplications to thee? Or will he speak soft words to thee?
4 Mon den vil indgaa en Pagt med dig, saa du faar den til Træl for evigt?
Will he make a covenant with thee, that thou should take him for a servant forever?
5 Han du mon lege med den som en Fugl og tøjre den for dine Pigebørn?
Will thou play with him as with a bird? Or will thou bind him for thy maidens?
6 Falbyder Fiskerlauget den og stykker den ud mellem Sælgerne?
Will the bands make traffic of him? Will they part him among the merchants?
7 Mon du kan spække dens Hud med Kroge og med Harpuner dens Hoved?
Can thou fill his skin with barbed irons, or his head with fish-spears?
8 Læg dog engang din Haand paa den! Du vil huske den Kamp og gør det ej mer.
Lay thy hand upon him. Remember the battle, and do so no more.
9 Det Haab vilde blive til Skamme, alene ved Synet laa du der.
Behold, the hope of him is in vain. Will not a man be cast down even at the sight of him?
10 Ingen drister sig til at tirre den, hvem holder Stand imod den?
None is so fierce that he dare stir him up. Who then is he who can stand before me?
11 Hvem møder den og slipper fra det hvem under hele Himlen?
Who has first given to me, that I should repay him? Under the whole heaven is mine.
12 Jeg tier ej om dens Lemmer, hvor stærk den er, hvor smukt den er skabt.
I will not keep silence concerning his limbs, nor his mighty strength, nor his goodly frame.
13 Hvem har trukket dens Klædning af, trængt ind i dens dobbelte Panser?
Who can strip off his outer garment? Who shall come within his jaws?
14 Hvem har aabnet dens Ansigts Døre? Rundt om dens Tænder er Rædsel.
Who can open the doors of his face? Round about his teeth is terror.
15 Dens Ryg er Reder af Skjolde, dens Bryst er et Segl af Sten;
His strong scales are his pride, shut up together like a close seal.
16 de sidder tæt ved hverandre, Luft kommer ikke ind derimellem;
One is so near to another that no air can come between them.
17 de hænger fast ved hverandre, uadskilleligt griber de ind i hverandre.
They are joined one to another. They stick together, so that they cannot be parted.
18 Dens Nysen fremkalder straalende Lys, som Morgenrødens Øjenlaag er dens Øjne.
His sneezings flash forth light, and his eyes are like the eyelids of the morning.
19 Ud af dens Gab farer Fakler, Ildgnister spruder der frem.
Out of his mouth go burning torches, and sparks of fire leap forth.
20 Em staar ud af dens Næsebor som af en ophedet, kogende Kedel.
Out of his nostrils a smoke goes, as of a boiling pot and burning rushes.
21 Dens Aande tænder som glødende Kul, Luer staar ud af dens Gab.
His breath kindles coals, and a flame goes forth from his mouth.
22 Styrken bor paa dens Hals, og Angsten hopper foran den.
In his neck abides strength, and terror dances before him.
23 Tæt sidder Kødets Knuder, som støbt til Kroppen; de rokkes ikke;
The flakes of his flesh are joined together. They are firm upon him. They cannot be moved.
24 fast som Sten er dens Hjerte støbt, fast som den nederste Møllesten.
His heart is as firm as a stone, Yea, firm as the nether millstone.
25 Naar den rejser sig, gyser Helte, fra Sans og Samling gaar de af Skræk.
When he raises himself up the mighty are afraid. Because of consternation they are beside themselves.
26 Angriberens Sværd holder ikke Stand, ej Kastevaaben, Spyd eller Pil.
If a man lays at him with the sword it cannot avail, nor the spear, the dart, nor the pointed shaft.
27 Jern regner den kun for Halm og Kobber for trøsket Træ;
He counts iron as straw, and brass as rotten wood.
28 Buens Søn slaar den ikke paa Flugt, Slyngens Sten bliver Straa for den,
The arrow cannot make him flee. Sling-stones are turned into stubble with him.
29 Stridskøllen regnes for Rør, den ler ad det svirrende Spyd.
Clubs are counted as stubble. He laughs at the rushing of the javelin.
30 Paa Bugen er der skarpe Rande, dens Spor i Dyndet er som Tærskeslædens;
His underparts are like sharp potsherds. He spreads out as a threshing-wagon upon the mire.
31 Dybet faar den i Kog som en Gryde, en Salvekedel gør den af Floden;
He makes the deep to boil like a pot. He makes the sea like a pot of ointment.
32 bag den er der en lysende Sti, Dybet synes som Sølverhaar.
He makes a path to shine after him. A man would think the deep to be hoary.
33 Dens Lige findes ikke paa Jord, den er skabt til ikke at frygte.
Upon earth there is not his like who is made without fear.
34 Alt, hvad højt er, ræddes for den, den er Konge over alle stolte Dyr.
He beholds everything that is high. He is king over all the sons of pride.
