Job 27
1 Job again took up his parable, and said,
Job vedblev at fremsætte sit Tankesprog:
2 “As God lives, who has taken away my right, the Almighty, who has made my soul bitter
Saa sandt Gud lever, som satte min Ret til Side, den Almægtige, som gjorde mig mod i Hu:
3 (for the length of my life is still in me, and the spirit of God is in my nostrils);
Saa længe jeg drager Aande og har Guds Aande i Næsen,
4 surely my lips will not speak unrighteousness, neither will my tongue utter deceit.
skal mine Læber ej tale Uret, min Tunge ej fare med Svig!
5 Far be it from me that I should justify you. Until I die I will not put away my integrity from me.
Langt være det fra mig at give jer Ret; til jeg udaander, opgiver jeg ikke min Uskyld.
6 I hold fast to my righteousness, and will not let it go. My heart will not reproach me so long as I live.
Jeg hævder min Ret, jeg slipper den ikke, ingen af mine Dage piner mit Sind.
7 “Let my enemy be as the wicked. Let him who rises up against me be as the unrighteous.
Som den gudløse gaa det min Fjende, min Modstander som den lovløse!
8 For what is the hope of the godless, when he is cut off, when God takes away his life?
Thi hvad er den vanhelliges Haab, naar Gud bortskærer og kræver hans Sjæl?
9 Will God hear his cry when trouble comes on him?
Hører mon Gud hans Skrig, naar Angst kommer over ham?
10 Will he delight himself in the Almighty, and call on God at all times?
Mon han kan fryde sig over den Almægtige, føjer han ham, naar han paakalder ham?
11 I will teach you about the hand of God. I will not conceal that which is with the Almighty.
Jeg vil lære jer om Guds Haand, den Almægtiges Tanker dølger jeg ikke;
12 Behold, all of you have seen it yourselves; why then have you become altogether vain?
se, selv har I alle set det, hvi har I saa tomme Tanker?
13 “This is the portion of a wicked man with God, the heritage of oppressors, which they receive from the Almighty.
Det er den gudløses Lod fra Gud, Arven, som Voldsmænd faar fra den Almægtige:
14 If his children are multiplied, it is for the sword. His offspring will not be satisfied with bread.
Vokser hans Sønner, er det for Sværdet, hans Afkom mættes ikke med Brød;
15 Those who remain of him will be buried in death. His widows will make no lamentation.
de øvrige bringer Pesten i Graven, deres Enker kan ej holde Klage over dem.
16 Though he heap up silver as the dust, and prepare clothing as the clay;
Opdynger han Sølv som Støv og samler sig Klæder som Ler —
17 he may prepare it, but the just will put it on, and the innocent will divide the silver.
han samler, men den retfærdige klæder sig i dem, og Sølvet arver den skyldfri;
18 He builds his house as the moth, as a booth which the watchman makes.
han bygger sit Hus som en Edderkops, som Hytten, en Vogter gør sig;
19 He lies down rich, but he will not do so again. He opens his eyes, and he is not.
han lægger sig rig, men for sidste Gang, han slaar Øjnene op, og er det ej mer;
20 Terrors overtake him like waters. A storm steals him away in the night.
Rædsler naar ham som Vande, ved Nat river Stormen ham bort;
21 The east wind carries him away, and he departs. It sweeps him out of his place.
løftet af Østenstorm farer han bort, den fejer ham væk fra hans Sted.
22 For it hurls at him, and does not spare, as he flees away from his hand.
Skaanselsløst skyder han paa ham, i Hast maa han fly fra hans Haand;
23 Men will clap their hands at him, and will hiss him out of his place.
man klapper i Hænderne mod ham og piber ham bort fra hans Sted!
