Job 6
1 Saa tog Job til Orde og svarede:
And Job answereth and saith: —
2 Gid man vejed min Harme og vejed min Ulykke mod den!
O that my provocation were thoroughly weighed, And my calamity in balances They would lift up together!
3 Thi tungere er den end Havets Sand, derfor talte jeg over mig!
For now, than the sands of the sea it is heavier, Therefore my words have been rash.
4 Thi i mig sidder den Almægtiges Pile, min Aand inddrikker deres Gift; Rædsler fra Gud forvirrer mig.
For arrows of the Mighty [are] with me, Whose poison is drinking up my spirit. Terrors of God array themselves [for] me!
5 Skriger et Vildæsel midt i Græsset, brøler en Okse ved sit Foder?
Brayeth a wild ass over tender grass? Loweth an ox over his provender?
6 Spiser man ferskt uden Salt, smager mon Æggehvide godt?
Eaten is an insipid thing without salt? Is there sense in the drivel of dreams?
7 Min Sjæl vil ej røre derved, de Ting er som Lugt af en Løve.
My soul is refusing to touch! They [are] as my sickening food.
8 Ak, blev mit Ønske dog opfyldt, Gud give mig det, som jeg haaber;
O that my request may come, That God may grant my hope!
9 vilde Gud dog knuse mig, række Haanden ud og skære mig fra,
That God would please — and bruise me, Loose His hand and cut me off!
10 saa vilde det være min Trøst — jeg hopped af Glæde trods skaanselsløs Kval at jeg ikke har nægtet den Helliges Ord.
And yet it is my comfort, (And I exult in pain — He doth not spare, ) That I have not hidden The sayings of the Holy One.
11 Hvad er min Kraft, at jeg skal holde ud, min Udgang, at jeg skal være taalmodig?
What [is] my power that I should hope? And what mine end That I should prolong my life?
12 Er da min Kraft som Stenens, er da mit Legeme Kobber?
Is my strength the strength of stones? Is my flesh brazen?
13 Ak, for mig er der ingen Hjælp, hver Udvej lukker sig for mig.
Is not my help with me, And substance driven from me?
14 Den, der nægter sin Næste Godhed, han bryder med den Almægtiges Frygt.
To a despiser of his friends [is] shame, And the fear of the Mighty he forsaketh.
15 Mine Brødre sveg mig som en Bæk, som Strømme, hvis Vand svandt bort,
My brethren have deceived as a brook, As a stream of brooks they pass away.
16 de, der var grumset af os, og som Sneen gemte sig i,
That are black because of ice, By them doth snow hide itself.
17 men som svandt ved Solens Glød, tørredes sporløst ud i Hede;
By the time they are warm they have been cut off, By its being hot they have been Extinguished from their place.
18 Karavaner bøjer af fra Vejen, drager op i Ørkenen og gaar til Grunde;
Turn aside do the paths of their way, They ascend into emptiness, and are lost.
19 Temas Karavaner spejder, Sabas Rejsetog haaber paa dem,
Passengers of Tema looked expectingly, Travellers of Sheba hoped for them.
20 men de beskæmmes i deres Tillid, de kommer derhen og skuffes!
They were ashamed that one hath trusted, They have come unto it and are confounded.
21 Ja, slige Strømme er I mig nu, Rædselen saa I og grebes af Skræk!
Surely now ye have become the same! Ye see a downfall, and are afraid.
22 Har jeg mon sagt: »Giv mig Gaver, løs mig med eders Velstand,
Is it because I said, Give to me? And, By your power bribe for me?
23 red mig af Fjendens Haand, køb mig fri fra Voldsmænds Haand!«
And, Deliver me from the hand of an adversary? And, From the hand of terrible ones ransom me?
24 Lær mig, saa vil jeg tie, vis mig, hvor jeg har fejlet!
Shew me, and I — I keep silent, And what I have erred, let me understand.
25 Redelig Tale, se, den gør Indtryk; men eders Revselse, hvad er den værd?
How powerful have been upright sayings, And what doth reproof from you reprove?
26 Er det jer Hensigt at revse Ord? Den fortvivledes Ord er dog Mundsvejr!
For reproof — do you reckon words? And for wind — sayings of the desperate.
27 Selv om en faderløs kasted I Lod og købslog om eders Ven.
Anger on the fatherless ye cause to fall, And are strange to your friend.
28 Men vilde I nu dog se paa mig! Mon jeg lyver jer op i Ansigtet?
And, now, please, look upon me, Even to your face do I lie?
29 Vend jer hid, lad der ikke ske Uret, vend jer, thi end har jeg Ret!
Turn back, I pray you, let it not be perverseness, Yea, turn back again — my righteousness [is] in it.
30 Er der Uret paa min Tunge, eller skelner min Gane ej, hvad der er ondt?
Is there in my tongue perverseness? Discerneth not my palate desirable things?
