Job 16
1 Så tog Job til Orde og svarede:
THEN Job answered and said,
2 "Nok har jeg hørt af sligt, besværlige Trøstere er I til Hobe!
I have heard many such things: miserable comforters are ye all.
3 Får Mundsvejret aldrig Ende? Hvad ægged dig dog til at svare?
Shall vain words have an end? or what emboldeneth thee that thou answerest?
4 Også jeg kunde tale som I, hvis I kun var i mit Sted, føje mine Ord imod jer og ryste på Hovedet ad jer,
I also could speak as ye do: if your soul were in my soul’s stead, I could heap up words against you, and shake mine head at you.
5 styrke jer med min Mund, ej spare på ynksomme Ord!
But I would strengthen you with my mouth, and the moving of my lips should asswage your grief.
6 Taler jeg, mildnes min Smerte ikke og om jeg tier, hvad Lindring får jeg?
Though I speak, my grief is not asswaged: and though I forbear, what am I eased?
7 Dog nu har han udtømt min Kraft, du bar ødelagt hele min Kreds;
But now he hath made me weary: thou hast made desolate all my company.
8 at du greb mig, gælder som Vidnesbyrd mod mig, min Magerhed vidner imod mig.
And thou hast filled me with wrinkles, which is a witness against me: and my leanness rising up in me beareth witness to my face.
9 Hans Vrede river og slider i mig, han skærer Tænder imod mig. Fjenderne hvæsser Blikket imod mig,
He teareth me in his wrath, who hateth me: he gnasheth upon me with his teeth; mine enemy sharpeneth his eyes upon me.
10 de opspiler Gabet imod mig, slår mig med Hån på Kind og flokkes til Hobe omkring mig;
They have gaped upon me with their mouth; they have smitten me upon the cheek reproachfully; they have gathered themselves together against me.
11 Gud gav mig hen i Niddingers Vold, i gudløses Hænder kasted han mig.
God hath delivered me to the ungodly, and turned me over into the hands of the wicked.
12 Jeg leved i Fred, så knuste han mig, han greb mig i Nakken og sønderslog mig; han stilled mig op som Skive,
I was at ease, but he hath broken me asunder: he hath also taken me by my neck, and shaken me to pieces, and set me up for his mark.
13 hans Pile flyver omkring mig, han borer i Nyrerne uden Skånsel, udgyder min Galde på Jorden;
His archers compass me round about, he cleaveth my reins asunder, and doth not spare; he poureth out my gall upon the ground.
14 Revne på Revne slår han mig, stormer som Kriger imod mig.
He breaketh me with breach upon breach, he runneth upon me like a giant.
15 Over min Hud har jeg syet Sæk og boret mit Horn i Støvel;
I have sewed sackcloth upon my skin, and defiled my horn in the dust.
16 mit Ansigt er rødt af Gråd, mine Øjenlåg hyllet i Mørke,
My face is foul with weeping, and on my eyelids is the shadow of death;
17 skønt der ikke er Vold i min Hånd, og skønt min Bøn er ren!
Not for any injustice in mine hands: also my prayer is pure.
18 Dølg ikke, Jord, mit Blod, mit Skrig komme ikke til Hvile!
O earth, cover not thou my blood, and let my cry have no place.
19 Alt nu er mit Vidne i Himlen, min Talsmand er i det høje;
Also now, behold, my witness is in heaven, and my record is on high.
20 gid min Ven lod sig finde! Mit Øje vender sig med Tårer til Gud,
My friends scorn me: but mine eye poureth out tears unto God.
21 at han skifter Ret mellem Manden og Gud, mellem Mennesket og hans Ven!
O that one might plead for a man with God, as a man pleadeth for his neighbour!
22 Thi talte er de kommende År, jeg skal ud på en Færd, jeg ej vender hjem fra.
When a few years are come, then I shall go the way whence I shall not return.
