Job 30
1 Now those who are younger than I have nothing but mockery for me— these young men whose fathers I would have refused to allow to work beside the dogs of my flock.
Men nu le de ad mig, som ere yngre af Aar end jeg, de, hvis Fædre jeg vilde have forsmaaet at sætte hos mine Faarehunde.
2 Indeed, the strength of their fathers' hands, how could it have helped me— men in whom the strength of their mature age had perished?
Ja, hvortil skulde deres Hænders Kraft have gavnet mig? hos dem er Styrken svundet bort.
3 They were thin from poverty and hunger; they gnawed at the dry ground in the darkness of wilderness and desolation.
De ere udtærede af Mangel og Hunger, de afgnave den golde Ørk, i Ødelæggelsens og Fordærvelsens Nat;
4 They plucked saltwort and bushes' leaves; the roots of the broom tree were their food.
de oprykke Katost ved Buskene, og Gyveltræets Rod er deres Føde;
5 They were driven out from among people who shouted after them as one would shout after a thief.
de uddrives fra Samfundet, man skriger efter dem som efter en Tyv;
6 So they had to live in river valleys, in holes of the earth and of the rocks.
de bo i Kløfter i Dalene, i Huler i Jorden og Klipper;
7 Among the bushes they brayed like donkeys and they gathered together under the nettles.
imellem Buske skryde de, de samles under Nælder.
8 They were the sons of fools, indeed, sons of nameless people! They were driven out of the land with whips.
Børn af Daarer, ja af Mænd uden Navn; de ere udstødte af Landet.
9 But now I have become the subject of their taunting song; I have become a byword for them.
Men nu er jeg bleven en Spottesang for dem og maa tjene dem til Snak.
10 They abhor me and stand far off from me; they do not refrain from spitting in my face.
De have Vederstyggelighed til mig, de holde sig langt fra mig og spare ikke at spytte mig i Ansigtet.
11 For God has unstrung the string to my bow and afflicted me, and those who taunt me cast off restraint before my face.
Thi de have løst Tøjlen af sig og plaget mig, og de have kastet Bidselet af for mit Ansigt.
12 Upon my right hand rise the rabble; they drive me away and pile up against me their siege mounds.
Til højre for mig staar en Yngel frem, de støde mine Fødder bort, og de bane deres Fordærvelses Veje imod mig;
13 They destroy my path; they push forward disaster for me, men who have no one to hold them back.
de bryde min Sti op, de hjælpe til min Ulykke, de have ingen Hjælper;
14 They come against me like an army through a wide hole in a city wall; in the midst of the destruction they roll themselves in on me.
de komme som igennem et vidt Gab, de vælte sig frem under Bulder.
15 Terrors are turned upon me; my honor is driven away as if by the wind; my prosperity passes away as a cloud.
Rædsler ere vendte imod mig, som et Stormvejr forfølge de min Herlighed, og min Frelse er gaaet forbi som en Sky.
16 Now my life is pouring out from within me; many days of suffering have laid hold on me.
Men nu er min Sjæl hensmeltet i mig, Elendigheds Dage komme over mig.
17 In the night my bones in me are pierced; the pains that gnaw at me take no rest.
Natten gennemborer mine Ben, saa at de falde af mig, og mine nagende Smerter hvile ikke.
18 God's great force has seized my clothing; it wraps around me like the collar of my tunic.
Ved den overvættes Magt er min Klædning helt forandret, den omslutter mig som Kraven paa min Underkjortel.
19 He has thrown me into the mud; I have become like dust and ashes.
Han har kastet mig i Dyndet, og jeg er lignet ved Støv og Aske.
20 I cry to you, God, but you do not answer me; I stand up, and you merely look at me.
Jeg skriger til dig, men du svarer mig ikke; jeg staar der, og du bliver ved at se paa mig.
21 You have changed and become cruel to me; with the strength of your hand you persecute me.
Du har forvendt dig til at være grum imod mig; du modstaar mig med din Haands Styrke.
22 You lift me up to the wind and cause it to drive me along; you throw me back and forth in a storm.
Du løfter mig op i Stormvejret, du lader mig fare hen, og du lader mig forgaa i dets Brag.
23 For I know that you will bring me to death, to the house appointed for all the living.
Thi jeg ved, du fører mig til Døden igen og til alle levendes Forsamlings Hus.
24 However, does no one reach out with his hand to beg for help when he falls? Does no one in trouble call out for help?
Mon en ikke udrækker Haanden i sit Fald? eller mon en ikke skriger i sin Ulykke?
25 Did not I weep for him who was in trouble? Did I not grieve for the needy man?
Eller græd jeg ikke for den, som havde haarde Dage? ynkedes min Sjæl ikke over den fattige?
26 When I hoped for good, then evil came; when I waited for light, darkness came instead.
Thi der jeg forventede godt, da kom det onde, og der jeg haabede til Lys, da kom Mørkhed.
27 My heart is troubled and does not rest; days of affliction have come on me.
Mine Indvolde syde og ere ikke stille; Elendigheds Dage ere komne over mig.
28 I have gone about like one who was living in the dark, but not because of the sun; I stand up in the assembly and cry for help.
Jeg gaar sort, uden Sol, jeg staar op, jeg skriger i Forsamlingen.
29 I am a brother to jackals, a companion of ostriches.
Jeg er bleven Dragers Broder og Strudses Stalbroder.
30 My skin is black and falls away from me; my bones are burned with heat.
Min Hud er bleven sort og falder af mig, og Benene i mig brænde af Hede.
31 Therefore my harp is tuned for songs of mourning, my flute for the singing of those who wail.
Og min Harpe er bleven til Sorrig, og min Fløjte til de grædendes Lyd.
