Job 27
1 And Job again took up his parable, and said:
Job vedblev at fremsætte sit Tankesprog:
2 As God liveth, who hath taken away my right; and the Almighty, who hath dealt bitterly with me;
"Så sandt Gud lever, som satte min Ret til Side, den Almægtige, som gjorde mig mod i Hu:
3 All the while my breath is in me, and the spirit of God is in my nostrils,
Så længe jeg drager Ånde og har Guds Ånde i Næsen,
4 Surely my lips shall not speak unrighteousness, neither shall 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; till I die I will not put away mine integrity from me.
Langt være det fra mig at give jer Ret; til jeg udånder, opgiver jeg ikke min Uskyld.
6 My righteousness I hold fast, and will not let it go; my heart shall 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 mine enemy be as the wicked, and let him that riseth up against me be as the unrighteous.
Som den gudløse gå det min Fjende, min Modstander som den lovløse!
8 For what is the hope of the godless, though he get him gain, when God taketh away his soul?
Thi hvad er den vanhelliges Håb, når Gud bortskærer og kræver hans Sjæl?
9 Will God hear his cry, when trouble cometh upon him?
Hører mon Gud hans Skrig, når Angst kommer over ham?
10 Will he have his delight in the Almighty, and call upon God at all times?
Mon han kan fryde sig over den Almægtige, føjer han ham, når han påkalder ham?
11 I will teach you concerning the hand of God; that which is with the Almighty will I not conceal.
Jeg vil lære jer om Guds Hånd, den Almægtiges Tanker dølger jeg ikke;
12 Behold, all ye yourselves have seen it; why then are ye become altogether vain?
se, selv har I alle set det, hvi har I så tomme Tanker?
13 This is the portion of a wicked man with God, and the heritage of oppressors, which they receive from the Almighty.
Det er den gudløses Lod fra Gud, Arven, som Voldsmænd får fra den Almægtige:
14 If his children be multiplied, it is for the sword; and his offspring shall not have bread enough.
Vokser hans Sønner, er det for Sværdet, hans Afkom mættes ikke med Brød;
15 Those that remain of him shall be buried by pestilence, and his widows shall 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 raiment as the clay;
Opdynger han Sølv som Støv og samler sig Klæder som Ler
17 He may prepare it, but the just shall put it on, and the innocent shall divide the silver.
han samler, men den retfærdige klæder sig i dem, og Sølvet arver den skyldfri;
18 He buildeth his house as a moth, and as a booth which the keeper maketh.
han bygger sit Hus som en Edderkops, som Hytten, en Vogter gør sig;
19 He lieth down rich, but there shall be not to gather; he openeth his eyes, and his wealth is not.
han lægger sig rig, men for sidste ang, han slår Øjnene op, og er det ej mer;
20 Terrors overtake him like waters; a tempest stealeth him away in the night.
Rædsler når ham som Vande, ved Nat river Stormen ham bort;
21 The east wind carrieth him away, and he departeth; and it sweepeth him out of his place.
løftet af Østenstorm farer han bort, den fejer ham væk fra hans Sted.
22 Yea, it hurleth at him, and spareth not; he would fain flee from its power.
Skånselsløst skyder han på ham, i Hast må han fly fra hans Hånd;
23 Men shall clap their hands at him, and shall hiss him out of his place.
man klapper i Hænderne mod ham og piber ham bort fra hans Sted!
