Job 27
1 Job vedblev at fremsætte sit Tankesprog:
Job resumed speaking and he said,
2 "Så sandt Gud lever, som satte min Ret til Side, den Almægtige, som gjorde mig mod i Hu:
“As surely as God lives, who has taken away my justice, the Almighty, who made my life bitter,
3 Så længe jeg drager Ånde og har Guds Ånde i Næsen,
while my life is yet in me, and the breath from God is in my nostrils, this is what I will do.
4 skal mine Læber ej tale Uret, min Tunge ej fare med Svig!
My lips will not speak wickedness, neither will my tongue speak deceit;
5 Langt være det fra mig at give jer Ret; til jeg udånder, opgiver jeg ikke min Uskyld.
I will never admit that you three are right; until I die I will never deny my integrity.
6 Jeg hævder min Ret, jeg slipper den ikke, ingen af mine Dage piner mit Sind.
I hold fast to my righteousness and will not let it go; my thoughts will not reproach me so long as I live.
7 Som den gudløse gå det min Fjende, min Modstander som den lovløse!
Let my enemy be like a wicked man; let him who rises up against me be like an unrighteous man.
8 Thi hvad er den vanhelliges Håb, når Gud bortskærer og kræver hans Sjæl?
For what is the hope of a godless man when God cuts him off, when God takes away his life?
9 Hører mon Gud hans Skrig, når Angst kommer over ham?
Will God hear his cry when trouble comes upon him?
10 Mon han kan fryde sig over den Almægtige, føjer han ham, når han påkalder ham?
Will he delight himself in the Almighty and call upon God at all times?
11 Jeg vil lære jer om Guds Hånd, den Almægtiges Tanker dølger jeg ikke;
I will teach you concerning the hand of God; I will not conceal the thoughts of the Almighty.
12 se, selv har I alle set det, hvi har I så tomme Tanker?
See, all of you have seen this yourselves; why then have you spoken all this nonsense?
13 Det er den gudløses Lod fra Gud, Arven, som Voldsmænd får fra den Almægtige:
This is the portion of a wicked man with God, the heritage of the oppressor that he receives from the Almighty:
14 Vokser hans Sønner, er det for Sværdet, hans Afkom mættes ikke med Brød;
If his children multiply, it is for the sword; his offspring will never have enough food.
15 de øvrige bringer Pesten i Graven, deres Enker kan ej holde Klage over dem.
Those who survive him will be buried by plague, and their widows will make no lament for them.
16 Opdynger han Sølv som Støv og samler sig Klæder som Ler
Though the wicked man heaps up silver like the dust, and heaps up clothing like clay,
17 han samler, men den retfærdige klæder sig i dem, og Sølvet arver den skyldfri;
he may heap up clothing, but righteous people will put it on, and innocent people will divide up the silver among themselves.
18 han bygger sit Hus som en Edderkops, som Hytten, en Vogter gør sig;
He builds his house like a spider, like a hut that a guard makes.
19 han lægger sig rig, men for sidste ang, han slår Øjnene op, og er det ej mer;
He lies down in bed rich, but he will not keep doing so; he opens his eyes, and everything is gone.
20 Rædsler når ham som Vande, ved Nat river Stormen ham bort;
Terrors overtake him like waters; a storm takes him away in the night.
21 løftet af Østenstorm farer han bort, den fejer ham væk fra hans Sted.
The east wind carries him away, and he leaves; it sweeps him out of his place.
22 Skånselsløst skyder han på ham, i Hast må han fly fra hans Hånd;
It throws itself at him and does not stop; he tries to flee out of its hand.
23 man klapper i Hænderne mod ham og piber ham bort fra hans Sted!
It claps its hands at him in mockery; it hisses him out of his place.
