Job 17
1 My spirit, is broken, My days, are extinguished, Graves, are left me.
Brudt er min Ånd, mine Dage slukt, og Gravene venter mig;
2 Verily there are mockers, with me! And, on their insults, mine eye doth rest.
visselig, Spot er min Del, og bittert er, hvad mit Øje må skue.
3 Appoint it, I pray thee—be thou surety for me with thyself, Who is there that, on my side, can pledge himself?
Stil Sikkerhed for mig hos dig! Hvem anden giver mig Håndslag?
4 For, their heart, hast thou kept back from understanding, On this account, thou wilt not exalt them.
Thi du lukked deres Hjerte for Indsigt, derfor vil du ikke ophøje dem;
5 He that, for a share, denounceth friends, even, the eyes of his children, shall be dim.
den, der forråder Venner til Plyndring, hans Sønners Øjne hentæres.
6 But he hath set me, as the byword of peoples, And, one to be spit on in the face, do I become.
Til Mundheld har du gjort mig for Folk, jeg er blevet et Jærtegn for dem;
7 Therefore hath mine eye become dim from vexation, and, my members, are like a shadow, all of them.
mit Øje er sløvet af Kvide, som Skygger er mine Lemmer til Hobe;
8 Upright men shall be astounded over this, and, the innocent, against the impious, shall rouse themselves.
retsindige stivner af Rædsel ved sligt, over vanhellig harmes den skyldfri,
9 That the righteous may hold on his way, and, the clean of hands, increase in strength.
men den retfærdige holder sin Vej, en renhåndet vokser i Kraft.
10 But indeed, as for them all, will ye bethink yourselves and enter into it, I pray you? Or shall I not find, among you, one who is wise?
Men I, mød kun alle frem igen, en Vismand fnder jeg ikke iblandt jer!
11 My days, are past, my purposes, are broken off, the possessions of my heart!
Mine Dage stunder mod Døden, brudt er mit Hjertes Ønsker;
12 Night for day, they appoint, Light, is near, by reason of darkness!
Natten gør jeg til Dag, Lyset for mig er Mørke;
vil jeg håbe, får jeg dog Bolig i Døden, jeg reder i Mørket mit Leje, (Sheol h7585)
14 To corruption, have exclaimed, My father, thou! My mother! and My sister! to the worm.
Graven kalder jeg Fader, Forrådnelsen Moder og Søster.
15 Where then would be my hope? And, as for my blessedness, who should see it!
Hvor er da vel mit Håb, og hvo kan øjne min Lykke?
