Job 3
1 Derefter oplod Job sin Mund og forbandede sin Dag,
After this, Job opened his mouth and cursed the day he was born.
2 og Job tog til Orde og sagde:
He said,
3 Bort med den Dag, jeg fødtes, den Nat, der sagde: "Se, en Dreng!"
“May the day on which I was born perish, the night that said, 'A boy has been conceived.'
4 Denne Dag vorde Mørke, Gud deroppe spørge ej om den, over den stråle ej Lyset frem!
May that day be dark; may not God from above call it to mind, neither may the sun shine on it.
5 Mulm og Mørke løse den ind, Tåge lægge sig over den, Formørkelser skræmme den!
May darkness and the shadow of death claim it for their own. May a cloud live over it; may everything that makes the day black truly terrify it.
6 Mørket tage den Nat, den høre ej hjemme blandt Årets Dage, den komme ikke i Måneders Tal!
As for that night, may thick darkness seize it. May it not rejoice among the days of the year; may it not come into the number of the months.
7 Ja, denne Nat vorde gold, der lyde ej Jubel i den!
See, may that night be barren; may no joyful voice come into it.
8 De, der besværger Dage, forbande den, de, der har lært at hidse Livjatan";
May they curse that day, those who know how to wake up Leviathan.
9 dens Morgenstjerner formørkes, den bie forgæves på Lys, den skue ej Morgenrødens Øjenlåg,
May the stars of that day's dawn be dark. May that day look for light, but find none; neither may it see the eyelids of the dawn,
10 fordi den ej lukked mig Moderlivets Døre og skjulte Kvide for mit Blik!
because it did not shut up the doors of my mother's womb, and because it did not hide trouble from my eyes.
11 Hvi døde jeg ikke i Moders Liv eller udånded straks fra Moders Skød?
Why did I not die when I came out from the womb? Why did I not give up my spirit when my mother bore me?
12 Hvorfor var der Knæ til at tage imod mig, hvorfor var der Bryster at die?
Why did her knees welcome me? Why did her breasts receive me so that I should suck?
13 Så havde jeg nu ligget og hvilet, så havde jeg slumret i Fred
For now I would have been lying down quietly. I would have slept and been at rest
14 blandt Konger og Jordens Styrere, der bygged sig Gravpaladser,
with kings and counselors of the earth, who built up tombs for themselves that are now in ruins.
15 blandt Fyrster, rige på Guld, som fyldte deres Huse med Sølv.
Or I would have been lying with princes who once had gold, who had filled their houses with silver.
16 Eller var jeg dog som et nedgravet Foster. som Børn, der ikke fik Lyset at se!
Or perhaps I would have been stillborn, like infants that never see the light.
17 Der larmer de gudløse ikke mer, der hviler de trætte ud,
There the wicked cease from trouble; there the weary are at rest.
18 alle de fangne har Ro, de hører ej Fogedens Røst;
There the prisoners are at ease together; they do not hear the voice of the slave driver.
19 små og store er lige der og Trællen fri for sin Herre.
Both small and great people are there; the servant is free from his master there.
20 Hvi giver Gud de lidende Lys, de bittert sørgende Liv,
Why is light given to him who is in misery? Why is life given to the one who is bitter in soul,
21 dem, som bier forgæves på Døden, graver derefter som efter Skatte,
to one who longs for death without it coming; to one who digs for death more than for hidden treasure?
22 som glæder sig til en Stenhøj, jubler, når de finder deres Grav
Why is light given to one who rejoices very much and is glad when he finds the grave?
23 en Mand, hvis Vej er skjult, hvem Gud har stænget inde?
Why is light given to a man whose way is hidden, a man whom God has hedged in?
24 Thi Suk er blevet mit daglige Brød, mine Ve råb strømmer som Vand.
For my sighing happens instead of eating; my groaning is poured out like water.
25 Thi hvad jeg gruer for, rammer mig, hvad jeg bæver for, kommer over mig.
For the thing that I feared has come on me; what I was afraid of has come to me.
26 Knap har jeg Fred, og knap har jeg Ro, knap har jeg Hvile, så kommer Uro!
I am not at ease, I am not quiet, and I have no rest; trouble comes instead.”
