Job 9
1 Saa tog Job til Orde og svarede:
And Job answereth and saith: —
2 Jeg ved forvist, at saaledes er det, hvad Ret har en dødelig over for Gud?
Truly I have known that [it is] so, And what — is man righteous with God?
3 Vilde Gud gaa i Rette med ham, kan han ikke svare paa et af tusind!
If he delight to strive with Him — He doth not answer him one of a thousand.
4 Viis af Hjerte og vældig i Kraft hvo trodsede ham og slap vel derfra?
Wise in heart and strong in power — Who hath hardened toward Him and is at peace?
5 Han flytter Bjerge saa let som intet, vælter dem om i sin Vrede,
Who is removing mountains, And they have not known, Who hath overturned them in His anger.
6 ryster Jorden ud af dens Fuger, saa dens Grundstøtter bæver;
Who is shaking earth from its place, And its pillars move themselves.
7 han taler til Solen, saa skinner den ikke, for Stjernerne sætter han Segl,
Who is speaking to the sun, and it riseth not, And the stars He sealeth up.
8 han udspænder Himlen ene, skrider hen over Havets Kamme,
Stretching out the heavens by Himself, And treading on the heights of the sea,
9 han skabte Bjørnen, Orion, Syvstjernen og Sydens Kamre,
Making Osh, Kesil, and Kimah, And the inner chambers of the south.
10 han øver ufattelig Vælde og Undere uden Tal!
Doing great things till there is no searching, And wonderful, till there is no numbering.
11 Gaar han forbi mig, ser jeg ham ikke, farer han hen, jeg mærker ham ikke;
Lo, He goeth over by me, and I see not, And He passeth on, and I attend not to it.
12 røver han, hvem mon der hindrer ham i det? Hvo siger til ham: »Hvad gør du?«
Lo, He snatches away, who bringeth it back? Who saith unto Him, 'What dost Thou?'
13 Gud lægger ikke Baand paa sin Vrede, Rahabs Hjælpere bøjed sig under ham;
God doth not turn back His anger, Under Him bowed have proud helpers.
14 hvor kan jeg da give ham Svar og rettelig føje min Tale for ham!
How much less do I — I answer Him? Choose out my words with Him?
15 Har jeg end Ret, jeg kan dog ej svare, maa bede min Dommer om Naade!
Whom, though I were righteous, I answer not, For my judgment I make supplication.
16 Nævned jeg ham, han svared mig ikke, han hørte, tror jeg, ikke min Røst,
Though I had called and He answereth me, I do not believe that He giveth ear [to] my voice.
17 han, som river mig bort i Stormen, giver mig Saar paa Saar uden Grund,
Because with a tempest He bruiseth me, And hath multiplied my wounds for nought.
18 ikke lader mig drage Aande, men lader mig mættes med beske Ting.
He permitteth me not to refresh my spirit, But filleth me with bitter things.
19 Gælder det Kæmpekraft, melder han sig! Gælder det Ret, hvo stævner ham da!
If of power, lo, the Strong One; And if of judgment — who doth convene me?
20 Har jeg end Ret, maa min Mund dog fælde mig, er jeg end skyldfri, han gør mig dog vrang!
If I be righteous, Mine mouth doth declare me wicked, Perfect I am! — it declareth me perverse.
21 Skyldfri er jeg, ser bort fra min Sjæl og agter mit Liv for intet!
Perfect I am! — I know not my soul, I despise my life.
22 Lige meget; jeg paastaar derfor: Skyldfri og skyldig gør han til intet!
It is the same thing, therefore I said, 'The perfect and the wicked He is consuming.'
23 Naar Svøben kommer med Død i et Nu, saa spotter han skyldfries Hjertekval;
If a scourge doth put to death suddenly, At the trial of the innocent He laugheth.
24 Jorden gav han i gudløses Haand, hylder dens Dommeres Øjne til, hvem ellers, om ikke han?
Earth hath been given Into the hand of the wicked one. The face of its judges he covereth, If not — where, who [is] he?
25 Raskere end Løberen fløj mine Dage, de svandt og saa ikke Lykke,
My days have been swifter than a runner, They have fled, they have not seen good,
26 gled hen som Baade af Siv, som en Ørn, der slaar ned paa Bytte.
They have passed on with ships of reed, As an eagle darteth on food.
27 Dersom jeg siger: »Mit Suk vil jeg glemme, glatte mit Ansigt og være glad, «
Though I say, 'I forget my talking, I forsake my corner, and I brighten up!'
28 maa jeg dog grue for al min Smerte, jeg ved, du kender mig ikke fri.
I have been afraid of all my griefs, I have known that Thou dost not acquit me.
29 Jeg skal nu engang være skyldig, hvorfor da slide til ingen Nytte?
I — I am become wicked; why [is] this? [In] vain I labour.
30 Toed jeg mig i Sne og tvætted i Lud mine Hænder,
If I have washed myself with snow-water, And purified with soap my hands,
31 du dypped mig dog i Pølen, saa Klæderne væmmedes ved mig.
Then in corruption Thou dost dip me, And my garments have abominated me.
32 Thi du er ikke en Mand som jeg, saa jeg kunde svare, saa vi kunde gaa for Retten sammen;
But if a man like myself — I answer him, We come together into judgment.
33 vi savner en Voldgiftsmand til at lægge sin Haand paa os begge!
If there were between us an umpire, He doth place his hand on us both.
34 Fried han mig for sin Stok, og skræmmed hans Rædsler mig ikke,
He doth turn aside from off me his rod, And His terror doth not make me afraid,
35 da talte jeg uden at frygte ham, thi min Dom om mig selv er en anden!
I speak, and do not fear Him, But I am not right with myself.
