Job 6
1 Then responded Job, and said: —
Så tog Job til Orde og svarede:
2 Oh that, weighed, were my vexation, and, my engulfing ruin—into the balances, they would lift up all at once!
"Gid man vejed min Harme og vejed min Ulykke mod den!
3 For, now, beyond the sand of the seas, would it be heavy, On this account, my words, have wandered.
Thi tungere er den end Havets Sand, derfor talte jeg over mig!
4 For, the arrows of the Almighty, are in me, The heat whereof, my spirit is drinking up, The, terrors of GOD, array themselves against me.
Thi i mig sidder den Almægtiges Pile, min Ånd inddrikker deres Gift; Rædsler fra Gud forvirrer mig.
5 Doth the wild ass bray over grass? Or loweth the ox over his fodder?
Skriger et Vildæsel midt i Græsset, brøler en Okse ved sit Foder?
6 Can that which hath no savour be eaten without salt? Or is there any taste in the white of an egg?
Spiser man ferskt uden Salt, smager mon Æggehvide godt?
7 My soul hath refused to touch, Those things, are like disease in my food.
Min Sjæl vil ej røre derved, de Ting er som Lugt af en Løve.
8 Oh that my request would come! and, my hope, oh that GOD would grant!
Ak, blev mit Ønske dog opfyldt, Gud give mig det, som jeg håber
9 That it would please GOD to crush me, That he would set free his hand, and cut me off!
vilde d dog knuse mig, række Hånden ud og skære mig fra,
10 So might it still be my comfort, And I might exult in the anguish he would not spare, —That I had not concealed the sayings of the Holy One.
så vilde det være min Trøst - jeg hopped af Glæde trods skånselsløs Kval at jeg ikke har nægtet den Helliges Ord.
11 What is my strength, that I should hope? Or what mine end, that I should prolong my desire?
Hvad er min Kraft, at jeg skal holde ud, min Udgang, at jeg skal være tålmodig?
12 Is my strength, the strength of stones? Or is, my flesh, of bronze?
Er da min Kraft som Stenens, er da mit Legeme Kobber?
13 Is there any help at all in me? Is not, abiding success, driven from me?
Ak, for mig er der ingen Hjælp, hver Udvej lukker sig for mig.
14 The despairing, from his friend, should have lovingkindness, or, the reverence of the Almighty, he may forsake.
Den, der nægter sin Næste Godhed, han bryder med den Almægtiges Frygt.
15 Mine own brethren, have proved treacherous like a torrent, like a channel of torrents which disappear:
Mine Brødre sveg mig som en Bæk, som Strømme, hvis Vand svandt bort,
16 Which darken by reason of the cold, over them, is a covering made by the snow:
de, der var grumset af os, og som Sneen gemte sig i,
17 By the time they begin to thaw, they are dried up, as soon as it is warm, they have vanished out of their place.
men som svandt ved Solens Glød, tørredes sporløst ud i Hede;
18 Caravans turn aside by their course, they go up into a waste, and are lost:
Karavaner bøjer af fra Vejen, drager op i Ørkenen og går til Grunde;
19 The caravans of Tema looked about, the travelling companies of Sheba, hoped for them:
Temas Karavaner spejder, Sabas Rejsetog håber på dem,
20 They are ashamed that they had trusted, They have come up to one of them, and are confounded.
men de beskæmmes i deres Tillid, de kommer derhen og skuffes!
21 For, now, ye have come to him, ye see something fearful, and fear.
Ja, slige Strømme er I mig nu, Rædselen så I og grebes af Skræk!
22 Is it that I said, Make me a gift, or, out of your abundance, offer a bribe on my behalf;
Har jeg mon sagt: "Giv mig Gaver, løs mig med eders Velstand,
23 And deliver me from the hand of the adversary? And, out of the hand of tyrants, ransom me?
red mig af Fjendens Hånd, køb mig fri fra Voldsmænds Hånd!"
24 Show me, and, I, will hold my peace, And, wherein I have erred, cause me to understand.
Lær mig, så vil jeg tie, vis mig, hvor jeg har fejlet!
25 How pleasant are the sayings that are right! But what can a decision from you, decide?
Redelig Tale, se, den gør Indtryk; men eders Revselse, hvad er den værd?
26 To decide words, do ye intend, When, to the wind, are spoken the sayings of one in despair?
Er det jer Hensigt at revse Ord? Den fortvivledes Ord er dog Mundsvejr!
27 Surely, the fatherless, ye would assail, and make merchandise of your friend!
Selv om en faderløs kasted I Lod og købslog om eders Ven.
28 But, now, be pleased to turn to me, that it may be, to your faces, if I speak falsehood,
Men vilde I nu dog se på mig! Mon jeg lyver jer op i Ansigtet?
29 Reply, I pray you, let there be no perversity, Yea reply even yet, my vindication is in it!
Vend jer hid, lad der ikke ske Uret, vend jer, thi end har jeg Ret!
30 Is there, in my tongue, perversity? Or can, my sense, not discern, engulfing ruin?
Er der Uret på min Tunge, eller skelner min Gane ej, hvad der er ondt?
