Job 4
1 Then responded Eliphaz the Temanite, and said: —
Så tog Temaniten Elifaz til Orde og sagde:
2 If one attempt a word unto thee, wilt thou be impatient? But, to restrain speech, who, can endure?
Ærgrer det dig, om man taler til dig? Men hvem kan her være tavs?
3 Lo! thou hast admonished many, and, slack hands, hast thou been wont to uphold:
Du har selv talt mange til Rette og styrket de slappe Hænder,
4 Him that was stumbling, have thy words raised up, and, sinking knees, hast thou strengthened.
dine Ord holdt den segnende oppe, vaklende Knæ gav du Kraft.
5 But, now, it cometh upon thee, and thou despairest, It smiteth even thee, and thou art dismayed.
Men nu det gælder dig selv, så taber du Modet, nu det rammer dig selv, er du slaget af Skræk!
6 Is not, thy reverence, thy confidence? And is not, thy hope, the very integrity of thy ways?
Er ikke din Gudsfrygt din Tillid, din fromme Færd dit Håb?
7 Remember, I pray thee, who, being innocent, hath perished, or when, the upright, have been cut off.
Tænk efter! Hvem gik uskyldig til Grunde, hvor gik retsindige under?
8 So far as I have seen, They who plow for iniquity and sow misery, reap the same:
Men det har jeg set: Hvo Uret pløjer og sår Fortræd, de høster det selv.
9 By the blast of GOD, they perish, And, by the breath of his nostrils, are they consumed:
For Guds Ånd går de til Grunde, for hans Vredes Pust går de til.
10 [Notwithstanding] the roaring of the lion, and the noise of the howling lion, yet, the teeth of the fierce lions, are broken:
Løvens Brøl og Vilddyrets Glam Ungløvernes Tænder slås ud;
11 The strong lion perishing for lack of prey, Even the whelps of the lioness, are scattered.
Løven omkommer af Mangel på Rov, og Løveungerne spredes.
12 But, unto me, something was brought by stealth, —and mine ear caught a whispering of the same:
Der sneg sig til mig et Ord mit Øre opfanged dets Hvisken
13 When there were thoughts, from visions of the night, —When deep sleep falleth upon men,
i Nattesynernes Tanker, da Dvale sank over Mennesker;
14 Dread, came upon me, and trembling, The multitude of my bones, it put in dread:
Angst og Skælven kom over mig, alle mine Ledemod skjalv;
15 Then, a spirit, over my face, floated along, The hair of my flesh bristled-up:
et Pust strøg over mit Ansigt, Hårene rejste sig på min Krop.
16 It stood still, but I could not distinguish its appearance, I looked, but there was no form before mine eyes, —A whispering voice, I heard: —
Så stod det stille! Jeg sansed ikke, hvordan det så ud; en Skikkelse stod for mit Øje, jeg hørte en hviskende Stemme:
17 Shall, mortal man, be more just than GOD? Or a man be more pure than, his Maker?
"Har et Menneske Ret for Gud, mon en Mand er ren for sin Skaber?
18 Lo! in his own servants, he trusteth not, and, his own messengers, he chargeth with error:
End ikke sine Tjenere tror han, hos sine Engle finder han Fejl,
19 How much more the dwellers in houses of clay, which, in the dust, have their foundation, which are crushed sooner than a moth:
endsige hos dem, der bor i en Hytte af Ler og har deres Grundvold i Støvet!
20 Betwixt morning and evening, are they broken in pieces, With none to save, they utterly perish:
De knuses ligesom Møl, imellem Morgen og Aften, de sønderslås uden at ænses, for evigt går de til Grunde.
21 Is not their tent-rope within them, torn away? They die, disrobed of wisdom!
Rives ej deres Teltreb ud? De dør, men ikke i Visdom."
