Job 30
1 But now the youngest have laughed me to scorn, now they reprove me in [their] turn, whose fathers I set at nothing; whom I did not deem worthy [to be with] my shepherd dogs.
Men no er eg til spott for deim som yngre er av år enn eg; eg deira feder ikkje fann verdige plass hjå gjætarhunden.
2 Yes, why had I the strength of their hands? for them the full term [of life] was lost.
Magtlause er og deira hender, og deira saft og kraft er burte;
3 [One is] childless in lack and famine, [such as] they that fled but lately the distress and misery of drought.
Dei magre er av naud og svolt, dei gneg i turre øydemarki som alt i går var reine audni,
4 Who compass the salt places on the sounding [shore], who had salt [herbs] for their food, and were dishonourable and of no repute, in lack of every good thing; who also ate roots of trees by reason of great hunger.
og plukkar melde millom kjørri og hev til føda einerot.
5 Thieves have risen up against me,
Frå folket vert dei jaga burt, fær tjuvemann slengt etter seg.
6 whose houses were the caves of the rocks, who lived under the wild shrubs.
Dei gøymer seg i fæle gil, i holor uti jord og fjell;
7 They will cry out amongst the rustling [bushes].
og millom buskor skrålar dei og samlast under netlerunnar;
8 [They are] sons of fools and vile men, [whose] name and glory [are] quenched from off the earth.
ei ætt av dårar og namnlause som ein helst piskar ut or landet.
9 But now I am their music, and they have me for a byword.
No er eg slengjestev for deim, eit ordtak hev for deim eg vorte.
10 And they stood aloof and abhorred me, and spared not to spit in my face.
Dei styggjest ved meg, held seg burte og sparer ei å sputta på meg.
11 For he has opened his quiver and afflicted me: they also have cast off the restraint of my presence.
Utan all blygd dei krenkjer meg, hiv av kvart band framfor mi åsyn.
12 They have risen up against [me] on the right hand of [their] offspring; they have stretched out their foot, and directed against me the ways of their destruction.
Eit utjo reiser seg til høgre, dei spenner mine føter burt, og legg ulukke-vegar mot meg.
13 My paths are ruined; for they have stripped off my raiment: he has shot at me with his weapons.
Og stigen min den bryt dei upp og hjelper til med mi ulukka, dei som er hjelpelause sjølv.
14 And he has pleaded against me as he will: I am overwhelmed with pains.
Som gjenom vide murbrot kjem dei, velter seg fram med bråk og brak.
15 My pains return upon [me]; my hope is gone like the wind, and my safety as a cloud.
Imot meg vender rædslor seg, mi æra elter dei som stormen, mi velferd kvarv som lette sky.
16 Even now my life shall be poured forth upon me; and days of anguish seize me.
No jamrar seg mi sjæl i meg; usæle dagar held meg fast.
17 And by night my bones are confounded; and my sinews are relaxed.
Natti gneg mine knokar av meg, min verk, mi pina aldri søv.
18 With great force [my disease] has taken hold of my garment: it has compassed me as the collar of my coat.
Ved allmagt vert min klædnad vanstelt, heng tett som skjortekragen kring meg.
19 And you have counted me as clay; my portion in dust and ashes.
Han kasta meg i skarnet ned; og eg ser ut som mold og oska.
20 And I have cried to you, but you hear me not: but they stood still, and observed me.
Eg skrik til deg, du svarar ikkje, eg stend der, og du stirer på meg.
21 They attacked me also without mercy: you have scourged me with a strong hand.
Hard hev du vorte imot meg, du stri’r mot meg med veldug hand.
22 And you have put me to grief, and have cast me away from safety.
Du let meg fara burt i stormen, du let meg tynast i hans brus.
23 For I know that death will destroy me: for the earth is the house [appointed] for every mortal.
Eg veit du fører meg til dauden, der alt som liver samlast lyt.
24 Oh then that I might lay hands upon myself, or at least ask another, and he should do this for me.
Kven kavar ikkje når han søkk? Kven ropar ikkje ut i fåren?
25 Yet I wept over every helpless man; I groaned when I saw a man in distress.
Gret eg’kje sjølv med den fortrykte, og syrgde yver fatigmann?
26 But I, when I waited for good things, behold, days of evils came the more upon me.
Eg vona godt, men det kom vondt, eg venta ljos, men myrker kom.
27 My belly boiled, and would not cease: the days of poverty prevented me.
Det kokar allstødt i mitt indre, ulukkedagen møter meg.
28 I went mourning without restraint: and I have stood and cried out in the assembly.
Svart gjeng eg kring, men ikkje solbrend, eg ris i flokken, skrik um hjelp.
29 I am become a brother of monsters, and a companion of ostriches.
Bror åt sjakalar hev eg vorte, til strussar eg ein frende er.
30 And my skin has been greatly blackened, and my bones are burnt with heat.
Mi hud er svart og flaknar av; det brenn i mine bein av hite.
31 My harp also has been turned into mourning, and my song into my weeping.
Min cither hev eg bytt i sorg, og fløyta mi med gråtar-mål.
