Job 41
1 Kan du trække Krokodillen op med Krog og binde dens Tunge med Snøre?
"Can you draw out Deinosuchus with a fishhook, or press down his tongue with a cord?
2 Kan du mon stikke et Siv i dens Snude, bore en Krog igennem dens Kæber?
Can you put a rope into his nose, or pierce his jaw through with a hook?
3 Mon den vil trygle dig længe og give dig gode Ord?
Will he make many petitions to you, or will he speak soft words to you?
4 Mon den vil indgå en Pagt med dig, så du får den til Træl for evigt?
Will he make a covenant with you, that you should take him for a servant forever?
5 Han du mon lege med den som en Fugl og tøjre den for dine Pigebørn?
Will you play with him as with a bird? Or will you bind him for your girls?
6 Falbyder Fiskerlauget den og stykker den ud mellem Sælgerne?
Will traders barter for him? Will they part him among the merchants?
7 Mon du kan spække dens Hud med Kroge og med Harpuner dens Hoved?
Can you fill his skin with barbed irons, or his head with fish spears?
8 Læg dog engang din Hånd på den! Du vil huske den Kamp og gør det ej mer.
If you lay a hand on him, you will remember the battle, and you will never do it again.
9 Det Håb vilde blive til Skamme, alene ved Synet lå du der.
Look, the hope of him is in vain. Won't one be cast down even at the sight of him?
10 Ingen drister sig til at tirre den, hvem holder Stand imod den?
None is so fierce that he dare stir him up. Who then is he who can stand before me?
11 Hvem møder den og slipper fra det hvem under hele Himlen?
Who has confronted me, that I should repay? Everything under the heavens is mine.
12 Jeg tier ej om dens Lemmer, hvor stærk den er, hvor smukt den er skabt.
"I will not keep silence concerning his limbs, nor his mighty strength, nor his goodly frame.
13 Hvem har trukket dens Klædning af, trængt ind i dens dobbelte Panser?
Who can strip off his outer garment? Who shall come within his jaws?
14 Hvem har åbnet dens Ansigts Døre? Rundt om dens Tænder er Rædsel.
Who can open the doors of his face? Around his teeth is terror.
15 Dens Ryg er Reder af Skjolde, dens Bryst er et Segl af Sten;
Strong scales are his pride, shut up together with a close seal.
16 de sidder tæt ved hverandre, Luft kommer ikke ind derimellem;
One is so near to another, that no air can come between them.
17 de hænger fast ved hverandre, uadskilleligt griber de ind i hverandre.
They are joined one to another. They stick together, so that they can't be pulled apart.
18 Dens Nysen fremkalder strålende Lys, som Morgenrødens Øjenlåg er dens Øjne.
His sneezing flashes out light. His eyes are like the eyelids of the morning.
19 Ud af dens Gab farer Fakler, Ildgnister spruder der frem.
Out of his mouth go burning torches. Sparks of fire leap forth.
20 Em står ud af dens Næsebor som af en ophedet, kogende Kedel.
Out of his nostrils a smoke goes, as of a boiling pot over a fire of reeds.
21 Dens Ånde tænder som glødende Kul, Luer står ud af dens Gab.
His breath kindles coals. A flame goes forth from his mouth.
22 Styrken bor på dens Hals, og Angsten hopper foran den.
There is strength in his neck. Terror dances before him.
23 Tæt sidder Kødets Knuder, som støbt til Kroppen; de rokkes ikke;
The flakes of his flesh are joined together. They are firm on him. They can't be moved.
24 fast som Sten er dens Hjerte støbt, fast som den nederste Møllesten.
His heart is as firm as a stone, yes, firm as the lower millstone.
25 Når den rejser sig, gyser Helte, fra Sans og Samling går de af Skræk.
When he raises himself up, the mighty are afraid. They retreat before his thrashing.
26 Angriberens Sværd holder ikke Stand, ej Kastevåben, Spyd eller Pil.
If one attacks him with the sword, it can't prevail; nor the spear, the dart, nor the pointed shaft.
27 Jern regner den kun for Halm og Kobber for trøsket Træ;
He counts iron as straw; and bronze as rotten wood.
28 Buens Søn slår den ikke på Flugt, Slyngens Sten bliver Strå for den,
The arrow can't make him flee. Sling stones are like chaff to him.
29 Stridskøllen regnes for Rør, den ler ad det svirrende Spyd.
Clubs are counted as stubble. He laughs at the rushing of the javelin.
30 På Bugen er der skarpe Rande, dens Spor i Dyndet er som Tærskeslædens;
His undersides are like sharp potsherds, leaving a trail in the mud like a threshing sledge.
31 Dybet får den i Kog som en Gryde, en Salvekedel gør den af Floden;
He makes the deep to boil like a pot. He makes the sea like a pot of ointment.
32 bag den er der en lysende Sti, Dybet synes som Sølverhår.
He makes a path shine after him. One would think the deep had white hair.
33 Dens Lige findes ikke på Jord, den er skabt til ikke at frygte.
On earth there is not his equal, that is made without fear.
34 Alt, hvad højt er, ræddes for den, den er Konge over alle stolte Dyr.
He sees everything that is high. He is king over all the sons of pride."
