Job 18
1 And Bildad the Shuhite answereth and saith: —
Så tog Sjuhiten Bildad til Orde og sagde:
2 When do ye set an end to words? Consider ye, and afterwards do we speak.
"Så gør dog en Ende på dine Ord, kom til Fornuft og lad os tale!
3 Wherefore have we been reckoned as cattle? We have been defiled in your eyes!
Hvi skal vi regnes for Kvæg og stå som umælende i dine Øjne?
4 (He is tearing himself in his anger.) For thy sake is earth forsaken? And removed is a rock from its place?
Du, som i Vrede sønderslider din Sjæl, skal for din Skyld Jorden blive øde og Klippen flyttes fra sit Sted?
5 Also, the light of the wicked is extinguished. And there doth not shine a spark of his fire.
Nej, den gudløses Lys bliver slukt, hans Ildslue giver ej Lys;
6 The light hath been dark in his tent, And his lamp over him is extinguished.
Lyset i hans Telt går ud, og hans Lampe slukkes for ham;
7 Straitened are the steps of his strength, And cast him down doth his own counsel.
hans kraftige Skridt bliver korte, han falder for eget Råd;
8 For he is sent into a net by his own feet, And on a snare he doth walk habitually.
thi hans Fod drives ind i Nettet, på Fletværk vandrer han frem,
9 Seize on the heel doth a gin, Prevail over him do the designing.
Fælden griber om Hælen, Garnet holder ham fast;
10 Hidden in the earth is his cord, And his trap on the path.
Snaren er skjult i Jorden for ham og Saksen på hans Sti;
11 Round about terrified him have terrors, And they have scattered him — at his feet.
Rædsler skræmmer ham alle Vegne og kyser ham Skridt for Skridt:
12 Hungry is his sorrow, And calamity is ready at his side.
Ulykken hungrer efter ham, Undergang lurer på hans Fald:
13 It consumeth the parts of his skin, Consume his parts doth death's first-born.
Dødens førstefødte æder hans Lemmer, æder hans Legemes Lemmer;
14 Drawn from his tent is his confidence, And it causeth him to step to the king of terrors.
han rives bort fra sit Telt, sin Fortrøstning; den styrer hans Skridt til Rædslernes Konge;
15 It dwelleth in his tent — out of his provender, Scattered over his habitation is sulphur.
i hans Telt har Undergang hjemme, Svovl strøs ud på hans Bolig;
16 From beneath his roots are dried up, And from above cut off is his crop.
nedentil tørrer hans Rødder, oventil visner hans Grene;
17 His memorial hath perished from the land, And he hath no name on the street.
hans Minde svinder fra Jord, på Gaden nævnes ikke hans Navn;
18 They thrust him from light unto darkness, And from the habitable earth cast him out.
man støder ham ud fra Lys i Mørket og driver ham bort fra Jorderig;
19 He hath no continuator, Nor successor among his people, And none is remaining in his dwellings.
i sit Folk har han ikke Afkom og Æt, i hans Hjem er der ingen tilbage;
20 At this day westerns have been astonished And easterns have taken fright.
de i Vester stivner ved hans Skæbnedag, de i Øst bliver slagne af Rædsel.
21 Only these [are] tabernacles of the perverse, And this the place God hath not known.
Ja, således går det den lovløses Bolig, dens Hjem, der ej kender Gud!
