Job 4
1 And Eliphaz the Temanite answers and says:
Saa tog Temaniten Elifaz til Orde og sagde:
2 “Has one tried a word with you? You are weary! And who is able to keep in words?
Ærgrer det dig, om man taler til dig? Men hvem kan her være tavs?
3 Behold, you have instructed many, And feeble hands you make strong.
Du har selv talt mange til Rette og styrket de slappe Hænder,
4 Your words raise up the stumbling one, And you strengthen bowing knees.
dine Ord holdt den segnende oppe, vaklende Knæ gav du Kraft —
5 But now, it comes to you, And you are weary; It strikes to you, and you are troubled.
Men nu det gælder dig selv, saa taber du Modet, nu det rammer dig selv, er du slaget af Skræk!
6 Is your reverence not your confidence? Your hope—the perfection of your ways?
Er ikke din Gudsfrygt din Tillid, din fromme Færd dit Haab?
7 Now remember, Who, being innocent, has perished? And where have the upright been cut off?
Tænk efter! Hvem gik uskyldig til Grunde, hvor gik retsindige under?
8 As I have seen—plowers of iniquity, And sowers of misery, reap it!
Men det har jeg set: Hvo Uret pløjer og saar Fortræd, de høster det selv.
9 From the breath of God they perish, And from the spirit of His anger [are] consumed.
For Guds Aand gaar de til Grunde, for hans Vredes Pust gaar de til.
10 The roaring of a lion, And the voice of a fierce lion, And teeth of young lions have been broken.
Løvens Brøl og Vilddyrets Glam Ungløvernes Tænder slaas ud;
11 An old lion is perishing without prey, And the whelps of the lioness separate.
Løven omkommer af Mangel paa Rov, og Løveungerne spredes.
12 And a thing is secretly brought to me, And my ear receives a little of it.
Der sneg sig til mig et Ord mit Øre opfanged dets Hvisken
13 In thoughts from visions of the night, In the falling of deep sleep on men,
i Nattesynernes Tanker, da Dvale sank over Mennesker;
14 Fear has met me, and trembling, And the multitude of my bones caused to fear.
Angst og Skælven kom over mig, alle mine Ledemod skjalv;
15 And a spirit passes before my face, The hair of my flesh stands up;
et Pust strøg over mit Ansigt, Haarene rejste sig paa min Krop.
16 It stands, and I do not discern its aspect, A likeness [is] before my eyes, Silence! And I hear a voice:
Saa stod det stille! Jeg sansed ikke, hvordan det saa ud; en Skikkelse stod for mit Øje, jeg hørte en hviskende Stemme:
17 Is mortal man more righteous than God? Is a man cleaner than his Maker?
»Har et Menneske Ret for Gud, mon en Mand er ren for sin Skaber?
18 Behold, He puts no credence in His servants, Nor sets praise in His messengers.
End ikke sine Tjenere tror han, hos sine Engle finder han Fejl,
19 Also—the inhabitants of houses of clay (Whose foundation [is] in the dust, They bruise them before a moth).
endsige hos dem, der bor i en Hytte af Ler og har deres Grundvold i Støvet!
20 From morning to evening are beaten down, Without any regarding, they perish forever.
De knuses ligesom Møl, imellem Morgen og Aften, de sønderslaas uden at ænses, for evigt gaar de til Grunde.
21 Has their excellence not been removed with them? They die, and not in wisdom!”
Rives ej deres Teltreb ud? De dør, men ikke i Visdom.
