Job 16
1 Then Job answered and said,
Så tog Job til Orde og svarede:
2 I have heard many such things: miserable comforters are ye all.
"Nok har jeg hørt af sligt, besværlige Trøstere er I til Hobe!
3 Shall vain words have an end? or what emboldeneth thee that thou answerest?
Får Mundsvejret aldrig Ende? Hvad ægged dig dog til at svare?
4 I also could speak as ye do: if your soul were in my soul’s stead, I could heap up words against you, and shake my head at you.
Også jeg kunde tale som I, hvis I kun var i mit Sted, føje mine Ord imod jer og ryste på Hovedet ad jer,
5 But I would strengthen you with my mouth, and the moving of my lips should relieve your grief.
styrke jer med min Mund, ej spare på ynksomme Ord!
6 Though I speak, my grief is not relieved: and though I forbear, what am I eased?
Taler jeg, mildnes min Smerte ikke og om jeg tier, hvad Lindring får jeg?
7 But now he hath made me weary: thou hast made desolate all my company.
Dog nu har han udtømt min Kraft, du bar ødelagt hele min Kreds;
8 And thou hast filled me with wrinkles, which is a witness against me: and my leanness rising up in me beareth witness to my face.
at du greb mig, gælder som Vidnesbyrd mod mig, min Magerhed vidner imod mig.
9 He teareth me in his wrath, who hateth me: he gnasheth upon me with his teeth; my enemy sharpeneth his eyes upon me.
Hans Vrede river og slider i mig, han skærer Tænder imod mig. Fjenderne hvæsser Blikket imod mig,
10 They have gaped upon me with their mouth; they have smitten me upon the cheek reproachfully; they have gathered themselves together against me.
de opspiler Gabet imod mig, slår mig med Hån på Kind og flokkes til Hobe omkring mig;
11 God hath delivered me to the ungodly, and turned me over into the hands of the wicked.
Gud gav mig hen i Niddingers Vold, i gudløses Hænder kasted han mig.
12 I was at ease, but he hath broken me asunder: he hath also taken me by my neck, and shaken me to pieces, and set me up for his mark.
Jeg leved i Fred, så knuste han mig, han greb mig i Nakken og sønderslog mig; han stilled mig op som Skive,
13 His archers surround me, he cleaveth my reins asunder, and doth not spare; he poureth out my gall upon the ground.
hans Pile flyver omkring mig, han borer i Nyrerne uden Skånsel, udgyder min Galde på Jorden;
14 He breaketh me with breach upon breach, he runneth upon me like a giant.
Revne på Revne slår han mig, stormer som Kriger imod mig.
15 I have sewed sackcloth upon my skin, and defiled my strength in the dust.
Over min Hud har jeg syet Sæk og boret mit Horn i Støvel;
16 My face is foul with weeping, and on my eyelids are the shadow of death;
mit Ansigt er rødt af Gråd, mine Øjenlåg hyllet i Mørke,
17 Not for any injustice in my hands: also my prayer is pure.
skønt der ikke er Vold i min Hånd, og skønt min Bøn er ren!
18 O earth, cover not thou my blood, and let my cry have no place.
Dølg ikke, Jord, mit Blod, mit Skrig komme ikke til Hvile!
19 Also now, behold, my witness is in heaven, and my record is on high.
Alt nu er mit Vidne i Himlen, min Talsmand er i det høje;
20 My friends scorn me: but my eye poureth out tears to God.
gid min Ven lod sig finde! Mit Øje vender sig med Tårer til Gud,
21 O that one might plead for a man with God, as a man pleadeth for his neighbour!
at han skifter Ret mellem Manden og Gud, mellem Mennesket og hans Ven!
22 When a few years are come, then I shall go the way from which I shall not return.
Thi talte er de kommende År, jeg skal ud på en Færd, jeg ej vender hjem fra.
