Job 3
1 Derefter oplod Job sin Mund og forbandede sin Dag,
At length Job opened his mouth, and cursed the day of his birth.
2 og Job tog til Orde og sagde:
And Job spake and said:
3 Bort med den Dag, jeg fødtes, den Nat, der sagde: "Se, en Dreng!"
Perish the day in which I was born, and the night which said, “A man-child is conceived!”
4 Denne Dag vorde Mørke, Gud deroppe spørge ej om den, over den stråle ej Lyset frem!
Let that day be darkness; Let not God seek it from above; Yea, let not the light shine upon it!
5 Mulm og Mørke løse den ind, Tåge lægge sig over den, Formørkelser skræmme den!
Let darkness and the shadow of death redeem it; Let a cloud dwell upon it; Let whatever darkeneth the day terrify it!
6 Mørket tage den Nat, den høre ej hjemme blandt Årets Dage, den komme ikke i Måneders Tal!
As for that night, let darkness seize upon it; Let it not rejoice among the days of the year; Let it not come into the number of the months!
7 Ja, denne Nat vorde gold, der lyde ej Jubel i den!
O let that night be unfruitful! Let there be in it no voice of joy;
8 De, der besværger Dage, forbande den, de, der har lært at hidse Livjatan";
Let them that curse the day curse it, Who are skilful to stir up the leviathan!
9 dens Morgenstjerner formørkes, den bie forgæves på Lys, den skue ej Morgenrødens Øjenlåg,
Let the stars of its twilight be darkened; Let it long for light, and have none; Neither let it see the eyelashes of the morning!
10 fordi den ej lukked mig Moderlivets Døre og skjulte Kvide for mit Blik!
Because it shut not up the doors of my mother's womb, And hid not trouble from mine eyes.
11 Hvi døde jeg ikke i Moders Liv eller udånded straks fra Moders Skød?
Why died I not at my birth? Why did I not expire when I came forth from the womb?
12 Hvorfor var der Knæ til at tage imod mig, hvorfor var der Bryster at die?
Why did the knees receive me, And why the breasts, that I might suck?
13 Så havde jeg nu ligget og hvilet, så havde jeg slumret i Fred
For now should I lie down and be quiet; I should sleep; then should I be at rest,
14 blandt Konger og Jordens Styrere, der bygged sig Gravpaladser,
With kings and counsellors of the earth, Who built up for themselves—ruins!
15 blandt Fyrster, rige på Guld, som fyldte deres Huse med Sølv.
Or with princes that had gold, And filled their houses with silver;
16 Eller var jeg dog som et nedgravet Foster. som Børn, der ikke fik Lyset at se!
Or, as a hidden untimely birth, I had perished; As infants which never saw the light.
17 Der larmer de gudløse ikke mer, der hviler de trætte ud,
There the wicked cease from troubling; There the weary are at rest.
18 alle de fangne har Ro, de hører ej Fogedens Røst;
There the prisoners rest together; They hear not the voice of the oppressor.
19 små og store er lige der og Trællen fri for sin Herre.
The small and the great are there, And the servant is free from his master.
20 Hvi giver Gud de lidende Lys, de bittert sørgende Liv,
Why giveth He light to him that is in misery, And life to the bitter in soul,
21 dem, som bier forgæves på Døden, graver derefter som efter Skatte,
Who long for death, and it cometh not, And dig for it more than for hid treasures;
22 som glæder sig til en Stenhøj, jubler, når de finder deres Grav
Who rejoice exceedingly, Yea, exult, when they can find a grave?
23 en Mand, hvis Vej er skjult, hvem Gud har stænget inde?
Why is light given to a man from whom the way is hid, And whom God hath hedged in?
24 Thi Suk er blevet mit daglige Brød, mine Ve råb strømmer som Vand.
For my sighing cometh before I eat, And my groans are poured out like water.
25 Thi hvad jeg gruer for, rammer mig, hvad jeg bæver for, kommer over mig.
For that which I dread overtaketh me; That at which I shudder cometh upon me.
26 Knap har jeg Fred, og knap har jeg Ro, knap har jeg Hvile, så kommer Uro!
I have no peace, nor quiet, nor respite: Misery cometh upon me continually.
