< Job 41 >

1 Kan du trække Krokodillen op med Krog og binde dens Tunge med Snøre?
“Do you draw leviathan with a hook? And do you let down his tongue with a rope?
2 Kan du mon stikke et Siv i dens Snude, bore en Krog igennem dens Kæber?
Do you put a reed in his nose? And pierce his jaw with a thorn?
3 Mon den vil trygle dig længe og give dig gode Ord?
Does he multiply supplications to you? Does he speak tender things to you?
4 Mon den vil indgaa en Pagt med dig, saa du faar den til Træl for evigt?
Does he make a covenant with you? Do you take him for a perpetual servant?
5 Han du mon lege med den som en Fugl og tøjre den for dine Pigebørn?
Do you play with him as a bird? And do you bind him for your girls?
6 Falbyder Fiskerlauget den og stykker den ud mellem Sælgerne?
(Companions feast on him, They divide him among the merchants!)
7 Mon du kan spække dens Hud med Kroge og med Harpuner dens Hoved?
Do you fill his skin with barbed irons? And his head with fish-spears?
8 Læg dog engang din Haand paa den! Du vil huske den Kamp og gør det ej mer.
Place your hand on him, Remember the battle—do not add!
9 Det Haab vilde blive til Skamme, alene ved Synet laa du der.
Behold, the hope of him is found a liar, Also, is one not cast down at his appearance?
10 Ingen drister sig til at tirre den, hvem holder Stand imod den?
None so fierce that he awakes him, And who [is] he [who] stations himself before Me?
11 Hvem møder den og slipper fra det hvem under hele Himlen?
Who has brought before Me and I repay? Under the whole heavens it [is] Mine.
12 Jeg tier ej om dens Lemmer, hvor stærk den er, hvor smukt den er skabt.
I do not keep silent concerning his parts, And the matter of might, And the grace of his arrangement.
13 Hvem har trukket dens Klædning af, trængt ind i dens dobbelte Panser?
Who has uncovered the face of his clothing? Who enters within his double bridle?
14 Hvem har aabnet dens Ansigts Døre? Rundt om dens Tænder er Rædsel.
Who has opened the doors of his face? Around his teeth [are] terrible.
15 Dens Ryg er Reder af Skjolde, dens Bryst er et Segl af Sten;
A pride—strong ones of shields, Shut up—a close seal.
16 de sidder tæt ved hverandre, Luft kommer ikke ind derimellem;
They draw near to one another, And air does not enter between them.
17 de hænger fast ved hverandre, uadskilleligt griber de ind i hverandre.
They adhere to one another, They stick together and are not separated.
18 Dens Nysen fremkalder straalende Lys, som Morgenrødens Øjenlaag er dens Øjne.
His sneezings cause light to shine, And his eyes [are] as the eyelids of the dawn.
19 Ud af dens Gab farer Fakler, Ildgnister spruder der frem.
Flames go out of his mouth, sparks of fire escape.
20 Em staar ud af dens Næsebor som af en ophedet, kogende Kedel.
Smoke goes forth out of his nostrils, As a blown pot and reeds.
21 Dens Aande tænder som glødende Kul, Luer staar ud af dens Gab.
His breath sets coals on fire, And a flame goes forth from his mouth.
22 Styrken bor paa dens Hals, og Angsten hopper foran den.
Strength lodges in his neck, And grief exults before him.
23 Tæt sidder Kødets Knuder, som støbt til Kroppen; de rokkes ikke;
The flakes of his flesh have adhered—Firm on him—it is not moved.
24 fast som Sten er dens Hjerte støbt, fast som den nederste Møllesten.
His heart [is] firm as a stone, Indeed, firm as the lower piece.
25 Naar den rejser sig, gyser Helte, fra Sans og Samling gaar de af Skræk.
The mighty are afraid at his rising, From his breakings they keep themselves free.
26 Angriberens Sværd holder ikke Stand, ej Kastevaaben, Spyd eller Pil.
The sword of his overtaker does not stand, Spear, dart, and breastplate.
27 Jern regner den kun for Halm og Kobber for trøsket Træ;
He reckons iron as straw, bronze as rotten wood.
28 Buens Søn slaar den ikke paa Flugt, Slyngens Sten bliver Straa for den,
The son of the bow does not cause him to flee, Stones of the sling are turned into stubble by him.
29 Stridskøllen regnes for Rør, den ler ad det svirrende Spyd.
Darts have been reckoned as stubble, And he laughs at the shaking of a javelin.
30 Paa Bugen er der skarpe Rande, dens Spor i Dyndet er som Tærskeslædens;
Sharp points of clay [are] under him, He spreads gold on the mire.
31 Dybet faar den i Kog som en Gryde, en Salvekedel gør den af Floden;
He causes the deep to boil as a pot, He makes the sea as a pot of ointment.
32 bag den er der en lysende Sti, Dybet synes som Sølverhaar.
He causes a path to shine after him, One thinks the deep to be hoary.
33 Dens Lige findes ikke paa Jord, den er skabt til ikke at frygte.
There is not on the earth his like, That is made without terror.
34 Alt, hvad højt er, ræddes for den, den er Konge over alle stolte Dyr.
He sees every high thing, He [is] king over all sons of pride.”

< Job 41 >