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, Shaddai, who has made my soul bitter.
"Så 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);
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. Until I die I will not put away my integrity from me.
Langt være det fra mig at give jer Ret; til jeg udånder, opgiver jeg ikke min Uskyld.
6 I hold fast to my righteousness, and will not let it go. My conscience will not accuse me as 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 gå 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 Håb, når Gud bortskærer og kræver hans Sjæl?
9 Will God hear his cry when trouble comes on him?
Hører mon Gud hans Skrig, når Angst kommer over ham?
10 Will he delight himself in Shaddai, and call on God at all times?
Mon han kan fryde sig over den Almægtige, føjer han ham, når han påkalder ham?
11 I will teach you about the hand of God. That which is with Shaddai will I not conceal.
Jeg vil lære jer om Guds Hånd, den Almægtiges Tanker dølger jeg ikke;
12 Look, all of you have seen it yourselves; why then have you 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, the heritage of oppressors, which they receive from Shaddai.
Det er den gudløses Lod fra Gud, Arven, som Voldsmænd får fra den Almægtige:
14 If his children are multiplied, it is for the sword. His offspring shall not be satisfied with bread.
Vokser hans Sønner, er det for Sværdet, hans Afkom mættes ikke med Brød;
15 Those who remain of him shall be buried in death. 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 clothing 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 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 shall not do so again. He opens his eyes, and it is gone.
han lægger sig rig, men for sidste ang, han slår Øjnene op, og er det ej mer;
20 Terrors overtake him like waters. A storm steals him away in the night.
Rædsler når 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.
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!
