Job 30
1 Nu derimod ler de ad mig, Folk, der er yngre end jeg, hvis Fædre jeg fandt for ringe at sætte iblandt mine Hyrdehunde.
But now those who are younger than I make sport of me; those whose fathers I would not have put with the dogs of my flocks.
2 Og hvad skulde jeg med deres Hænders Kraft? Deres Ungdomskraft har de mistet,
Of what use is the strength of their hands to me? all force is gone from them.
3 tørrede hen af Trang og Sult. De afgnaver Ørk og Ødemark
They are wasted for need of food, biting the dry earth; their only hope of life is in the waste land.
4 og plukker Melde ved Krattet, Gyvelrødder er deres Brød.
They are pulling off the salt leaves from the brushwood, and making a meal of roots.
5 Fra Samfundet drives de bort, som ad Tyve råbes der efter dem.
They are sent out from among their townsmen, men are crying after them as thieves
6 De bor i Kløfter, fulde af Rædsler, i Jordens og Klippernes Huler.
They have to get a resting-place in the hollows of the valleys, in holes of the earth and rocks.
7 De brøler imellem Buske, i Tornekrat kommer de sammen,
They make noises like asses among the brushwood; they get together under the thorns.
8 en dum og navnløs Æt, de joges med Hug af Lande.
They are sons of shame, and of men without a name, who have been forced out of the land.
9 Men nu er jeg Hånsang for dem, jeg er dem et Samtaleemne;
And now I have become their song, and I am a word of shame to them.
10 de afskyr mig, holder sig fra mig, nægter sig ikke af spytte ad mig.
I am disgusting to them; they keep away from me, and put marks of shame on me.
11 Thi han løste min Buestreng, ydmyged mig, og foran mig kasted de Tøjlerne af.
For he has made loose the cord of my bow, and put me to shame; he has sent down my flag to the earth before me.
12 Til højre rejser sig Ynglen, Fødderne slår de fra mig, bygger sig Ulykkesveje imod mig
The lines of his men of war put themselves in order, and make high their ways of destruction against me:
13 min Sti har de opbrudt, de hjælper med til mit Fald, og ingen hindrer dem i det;
They have made waste my roads, with a view to my destruction; his bowmen come round about me;
14 de kommer som gennem et gabende Murbrud, vælter sig frem under Ruiner,
As through a wide broken place in the wall they come on, I am overturned by the shock of their attack.
15 Rædsler har vendt sig imod mig; min Værdighed joges bort som af Storm, min Lykke svandt som en Sky.
Fears have come on me; my hope is gone like the wind, and my well-being like a cloud.
16 Min Sjæl opløser sig i mig; Elendigheds Dage har ramt mig:
But now my soul is turned to water in me, days of trouble overtake me:
17 Natten borer i mine Knogler, aldrig blunder de nagende Smerter.
The flesh is gone from my bones, and they give me no rest; there is no end to my pains.
18 Med vældig Kraft vanskabes mit Kød, det hænger om mig, som var det min Kjortel.
With great force he takes a grip of my clothing, pulling me by the neck of my coat.
19 Han kasted mig ud i Dynd, jeg er blevet som Støv og Aske.
Truly God has made me low, even to the earth, and I have become like dust.
20 Jeg skriger til dig, du svarer mig ikke, du står der og ænser mig ikke;
You give no answer to my cry, and take no note of my prayer.
21 grum er du blevet imod mig, forfølger mig med din vældige Hånd.
You have become cruel to me; the strength of your hand is hard on me.
22 Du løfter og vejrer mig hen i Stormen, og dens Brusen gennemryster mig;
Lifting me up, you make me go on the wings of the wind; I am broken up by the storm.
23 thi jeg ved, du fører mig hjem til Døden, til det Hus, hvor alt levende samles.
For I am certain that you will send me back to death, and to the meeting-place ordered for all living.
24 Dog, mon den druknende ej rækker Hånden ud og råber om Hjælp, når han går under?
Has not my hand been stretched out in help to the poor? have I not been a saviour to him in his trouble?
25 Mon ikke jeg græder over den, som havde det hårdt, sørgede ikke min Sjæl for den fattiges Skyld?
Have I not been weeping for the crushed? and was not my soul sad for him who was in need?
26 Jeg biede på Lykke, men Ulykke kom, jeg håbed på Lys, men Mørke kom;
For I was looking for good, and evil came; I was waiting for light, and it became dark.
27 ustandseligt koger det i mig, Elendigheds Dage traf mig;
My feelings are strongly moved, and give me no rest; days of trouble have overtaken me.
28 trøstesløs går jeg i Sorg, i Forsamlingen rejser jeg mig og råber;
I go about in dark clothing, uncomforted; I get up in the public place, crying out for help.
29 Sjakalernes Broder blev jeg, Strudsenes Fælle.
I have become a brother to the jackals, and go about in the company of ostriches.
30 Min Hud er sort, falder af, mine Knogler brænder af Hede;
My skin is black and dropping off me; and my bones are burning with the heat of my disease.
31 min Citer er blevet til Sorg, min Fløjte til hulkende Gråd!
And my music has been turned to sorrow, and the sound of my pipe into the noise of weeping.
