Job 41
1 Kan du trække Krokodillen op med Krog og binde dens Tunge med Snøre?
Can you draw out leviathan (sea serpent) with an hook? or his tongue with a cord which you let down?
2 Kan du mon stikke et Siv i dens Snude, bore en Krog igennem dens Kæber?
Can you put an hook into his nose? or bore his jaw through with a thorn?
3 Mon den vil trygle dig længe og give dig gode Ord?
Will he make many supplications unto you? will he speak soft words unto you?
4 Mon den vil indgaa en Pagt med dig, saa du faar den til Træl for evigt?
Will he make a covenant with you? will you take him for a servant for ever?
5 Han du mon lege med den som en Fugl og tøjre den for dine Pigebørn?
Will you play with him as with a bird? or will you bind him for your maidens?
6 Falbyder Fiskerlauget den og stykker den ud mellem Sælgerne?
Shall the companions make a banquet of him? shall they part him among the merchants?
7 Mon du kan spække dens Hud med Kroge og med Harpuner dens Hoved?
Can you 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 your hand upon him, remember the battle, do no more.
9 Det Haab vilde blive til Skamme, alene ved Synet laa du der.
Behold, the hope of him is in vain: shall not one 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 dare stir him up: who then is able to stand before me?
11 Hvem møder den og slipper fra det hvem under hele Himlen?
Who has prevented me, that I should repay him? whatsoever is 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 conceal his parts, nor his power, nor his comely proportion.
13 Hvem har trukket dens Klædning af, trængt ind i dens dobbelte Panser?
Who can discover the face of his garment? or who can come to him with his double bridle?
14 Hvem har aabnet dens Ansigts Døre? Rundt om dens Tænder er Rædsel.
Who can open the doors of his face? his teeth are terrible round about.
15 Dens Ryg er Reder af Skjolde, dens Bryst er et Segl af Sten;
His scales are his pride, shut up together as with 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, that they cannot be sundered.
18 Dens Nysen fremkalder straalende Lys, som Morgenrødens Øjenlaag er dens Øjne.
By his exhaling a light does shine, 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 lamps, and sparks of fire leap out.
20 Em staar ud af dens Næsebor som af en ophedet, kogende Kedel.
Out of his nostrils goes smoke, as out of a seething pot or caldron.
21 Dens Aande tænder som glødende Kul, Luer staar ud af dens Gab.
His breath kindles coals, and a flame goes out of his mouth.
22 Styrken bor paa dens Hals, og Angsten hopper foran den.
In his neck remains strength, and sorrow is turned into joy 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 in themselves; 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, as hard as a piece of the nether millstone.
25 Naar den rejser sig, gyser Helte, fra Sans og Samling gaar de af Skræk.
When he raises up himself, the mighty are afraid: by reason of breakings they purify themselves.
26 Angriberens Sværd holder ikke Stand, ej Kastevaaben, Spyd eller Pil.
The sword of him that lays at him cannot hold: the spear, the dart, nor the armour of jacket.
27 Jern regner den kun for Halm og Kobber for trøsket Træ;
He esteems 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 with him into stubble.
29 Stridskøllen regnes for Rør, den ler ad det svirrende Spyd.
Darts are counted as stubble: he laughs at the shaking of a spear.
30 Paa Bugen er der skarpe Rande, dens Spor i Dyndet er som Tærskeslædens;
Sharp stones are under him: he spreads sharp pointed things 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; one 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 all high things: he is a king over all the children of pride.
