Job 27
1 Moreover Job continued his discourse, and said:
Job vedblev at fremsætte sit Tankesprog:
2 As God liveth, who hath rejected my cause, And the Almighty, who hath afflicted my soul;
Saa sandt Gud lever, som satte min Ret til Side, den Almægtige, som gjorde mig mod i Hu:
3 As long as my breath is in me, And the spirit of God is in my nostrils,
Saa længe jeg drager Aande og har Guds Aande i Næsen,
4 Never shall my lips speak falsehood, Nor my tongue utter deceit.
skal mine Læber ej tale Uret, min Tunge ej fare med Svig!
5 God forbid that I should acknowledge you to be just: To my last breath will I assert my integrity.
Langt være det fra mig at give jer Ret; til jeg udaander, opgiver jeg ikke min Uskyld.
6 I will hold fast my innocence, and not let it go; My heart reproacheth me for no part of my life.
Jeg hævder min Ret, jeg slipper den ikke, ingen af mine Dage piner mit Sind.
7 May mine enemy be as the wicked, And he that riseth up against me as the unrighteous!
Som den gudløse gaa det min Fjende, min Modstander som den lovløse!
8 For what is the hope of the wicked, when God cutteth off his web, And taketh away his life?
Thi hvad er den vanhelliges Haab, naar Gud bortskærer og kræver hans Sjæl?
9 Will he listen to his cry, When trouble cometh upon him?
Hører mon Gud hans Skrig, naar Angst kommer over ham?
10 Can he delight himself in the Almighty, And call at all times upon God?
Mon han kan fryde sig over den Almægtige, føjer han ham, naar han paakalder ham?
11 I will teach you concerning the hand of God; That which is with the Almighty I will not conceal.
Jeg vil lære jer om Guds Haand, den Almægtiges Tanker dølger jeg ikke;
12 Behold, ye yourselves have all seen it; Why then do ye cherish such vain thoughts?
se, selv har I alle set det, hvi har I saa tomme Tanker?
13 This is the portion of the wicked man from God, —The inheritance which oppressors receive from the Almighty.
Det er den gudløses Lod fra Gud, Arven, som Voldsmænd faar fra den Almægtige:
14 If his children be multiplied, it is for the sword; And his offspring shall not be satisfied with bread.
Vokser hans Sønner, er det for Sværdet, hans Afkom mættes ikke med Brød;
15 Those of them that escape shall be buried by Death, And their widows shall not bewail them.
de øvrige bringer Pesten i Graven, deres Enker kan ej holde Klage over dem.
16 Though he heap up silver as dust, And procure raiment as clay, —
Opdynger han Sølv som Støv og samler sig Klæder som Ler —
17 He may procure, but the righteous shall wear it, And the innocent shall share the silver.
han samler, men den retfærdige klæder sig i dem, og Sølvet arver den skyldfri;
18 He buildeth his house like the moth, Or like the shed which the watchman maketh.
han bygger sit Hus som en Edderkops, som Hytten, en Vogter gør sig;
19 The rich man lieth down, and is not buried; In the twinkling of an eye he is no more.
han lægger sig rig, men for sidste Gang, han slaar Øjnene op, og er det ej mer;
20 Terrors pursue him like a flood; A tempest stealeth him away in the night.
Rædsler naar ham som Vande, ved Nat river Stormen ham bort;
21 The east wind carrieth him away, and he perisheth; Yea, it sweepeth him away from his place.
løftet af Østenstorm farer han bort, den fejer ham væk fra hans Sted.
22 God sendeth his arrows at him, and doth not spare; He would fain escape from His hand.
Skaanselsløst skyder han paa ham, i Hast maa han fly fra hans Haand;
23 Men clap their hands at him, And hiss him away from his place.
man klapper i Hænderne mod ham og piber ham bort fra hans Sted!
