Job 16
1 Så tog Job til Orde og svarede:
But Job answered and said:
2 "Nok har jeg hørt af sligt, besværlige Trøstere er I til Hobe!
Of such things as these I have heard enough! Miserable comforters are ye all!
3 Får Mundsvejret aldrig Ende? Hvad ægged dig dog til at svare?
Will there ever be an end to words of wind? What stirreth thee up, 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 might speak like you, If ye were now in my place; I might string together words against you, And shake my head at you.
5 styrke jer med min Mund, ej spare på ynksomme Ord!
I would strengthen you with my mouth, And the consolation of my lips should sustain you.
6 Taler jeg, mildnes min Smerte ikke og om jeg tier, hvad Lindring får jeg?
If I speak, my grief is not assuaged; And if I forbear, it doth not leave me.
7 Dog nu har han udtømt min Kraft, du bar ødelagt hele min Kreds;
For now He hath quite exhausted me; Thou hast desolated all my house!
8 at du greb mig, gælder som Vidnesbyrd mod mig, min Magerhed vidner imod mig.
Thou hast seized hold of me, and this is a witness against me; My leanness riseth up and testifieth against me to my face.
9 Hans Vrede river og slider i mig, han skærer Tænder imod mig. Fjenderne hvæsser Blikket imod mig,
His anger teareth my flesh, and pursueth me; He gnasheth upon me with his teeth; My adversary sharpeneth his eyes upon me.
10 de opspiler Gabet imod mig, slår mig med Hån på Kind og flokkes til Hobe omkring mig;
They gape for me with their mouths; In scorn they smite me on the cheek; With one consent they assemble against me.
11 Gud gav mig hen i Niddingers Vold, i gudløses Hænder kasted han mig.
God hath given me a prey to the unrighteous, And delivered me 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 crushed me; He hath seized me by the neck, and dashed me in pieces; He hath 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 encompass me around; He pierceth my reins, 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 rusheth upon me like a warrior.
15 Over min Hud har jeg syet Sæk og boret mit Horn i Støvel;
I have sewed sackcloth upon my skin, And thrust my horn into the dust.
16 mit Ansigt er rødt af Gråd, mine Øjenlåg hyllet i Mørke,
My face is red with weeping, And upon my eyelids is deathlike darkness.
17 skønt der ikke er Vold i min Hånd, og skønt min Bøn er ren!
Yet is there no injustice in my bands. And my prayer hath been pure.
18 Dølg ikke, Jord, mit Blod, mit Skrig komme ikke til Hvile!
O earth! cover not thou my blood, And let there be no hiding-place for my cry!
19 Alt nu er mit Vidne i Himlen, min Talsmand er i det høje;
Yet even now, behold, my witness is in heaven, And he who knoweth me is on high.
20 gid min Ven lod sig finde! Mit Øje vender sig med Tårer til Gud,
My friends have me in derision, But my eye poureth out tears unto God.
21 at han skifter Ret mellem Manden og Gud, mellem Mennesket og hans Ven!
O that one might contend for a man with God, As a man contendeth with his neighbor!
22 Thi talte er de kommende År, jeg skal ud på en Færd, jeg ej vender hjem fra.
For when a few years shall have passed, I shall go the way whence I shall not return.
