Job 3
1 After this opened Job his mouth, and cursed his day.
Derefter oplod Job sin Mund og forbandede sin Dag,
2 And Job spoke, and said:
og Job tog til Orde og sagde:
3 Let the day perish wherein I was born, and the night wherein it was said: 'A man-child is brought forth.'
Bort med den Dag, jeg fødtes, den Nat, der sagde: "Se, en Dreng!"
4 Let that day be darkness; let not God inquire after it from above, neither let the light shine upon it.
Denne Dag vorde Mørke, Gud deroppe spørge ej om den, over den stråle ej Lyset frem!
5 Let darkness and the shadow of death claim it for their own; let a cloud dwell upon it; let all that maketh black the day terrify it.
Mulm og Mørke løse den ind, Tåge lægge sig over den, Formørkelser skræmme den!
6 As for that night, let thick darkness seize upon it; let it not rejoice among the days of the year; let it not come into the number of the months.
Mørket tage den Nat, den høre ej hjemme blandt Årets Dage, den komme ikke i Måneders Tal!
7 Lo, let that night be desolate; let no joyful voice come therein.
Ja, denne Nat vorde gold, der lyde ej Jubel i den!
8 Let them curse it that curse the day, who are ready to rouse up leviathan.
De, der besværger Dage, forbande den, de, der har lært at hidse Livjatan";
9 Let the stars of the twilight thereof be dark; let it look for light, but have none; neither let it behold the eyelids of the morning;
dens Morgenstjerner formørkes, den bie forgæves på Lys, den skue ej Morgenrødens Øjenlåg,
10 Because it shut not up the doors of my mother's womb, nor hid trouble from mine eyes.
fordi den ej lukked mig Moderlivets Døre og skjulte Kvide for mit Blik!
11 Why died I not from the womb? Why did I not perish at birth?
Hvi døde jeg ikke i Moders Liv eller udånded straks fra Moders Skød?
12 Why did the knees receive me? And wherefore the breasts, that I should suck?
Hvorfor var der Knæ til at tage imod mig, hvorfor var der Bryster at die?
13 For now should I have lain still and been quiet; I should have slept; then had I been at rest —
Så havde jeg nu ligget og hvilet, så havde jeg slumret i Fred
14 With kings and counsellors of the earth, who built up waste places for themselves;
blandt Konger og Jordens Styrere, der bygged sig Gravpaladser,
15 Or with princes that had gold, who filled their houses with silver;
blandt Fyrster, rige på Guld, som fyldte deres Huse med Sølv.
16 Or as a hidden untimely birth I had not been; as infants that never saw light.
Eller var jeg dog som et nedgravet Foster. som Børn, der ikke fik Lyset at se!
17 There the wicked cease from troubling; and there the weary are at rest.
Der larmer de gudløse ikke mer, der hviler de trætte ud,
18 There the prisoners are at ease together; they hear not the voice of the taskmaster.
alle de fangne har Ro, de hører ej Fogedens Røst;
19 The small and great are there alike; and the servant is free from his master.
små og store er lige der og Trællen fri for sin Herre.
20 Wherewith is light given to him that is in misery, and life unto the bitter in soul —
Hvi giver Gud de lidende Lys, de bittert sørgende Liv,
21 Who long for death, but it cometh not; and dig for it more than for hid treasures;
dem, som bier forgæves på Døden, graver derefter som efter Skatte,
22 Who rejoice unto exultation, and are glad, when they can find the grave? —
som glæder sig til en Stenhøj, jubler, når de finder deres Grav
23 To a man whose way is hid, and whom God hath hedged in?
en Mand, hvis Vej er skjult, hvem Gud har stænget inde?
24 For my sighing cometh instead of my food, and my roarings are poured out like water.
Thi Suk er blevet mit daglige Brød, mine Ve råb strømmer som Vand.
25 For the thing which I did fear is come upon me, and that which I was afraid of hath overtaken me.
Thi hvad jeg gruer for, rammer mig, hvad jeg bæver for, kommer over mig.
26 I was not at ease, neither was I quiet, neither had I rest; but trouble came.
Knap har jeg Fred, og knap har jeg Ro, knap har jeg Hvile, så kommer Uro!
