Job 3
1 After this hath Job opened his mouth, and revileth his day.
Derefter oplod Job sin Mund og forbandede sin Dag,
2 And Job answereth and saith: —
og Job tog til Orde og sagde:
3 Let the day perish in which I am born, And the night that hath said: 'A man-child hath been conceived.'
Bort med den Dag, jeg fødtes, den Nat, der sagde: "Se, en Dreng!"
4 That day — let it be darkness, Let not God require it from above, Nor let light shine upon it.
Denne Dag vorde Mørke, Gud deroppe spørge ej om den, over den stråle ej Lyset frem!
5 Let darkness and death-shade redeem it, Let a cloud tabernacle upon it, Let them terrify it as the most bitter of days.
Mulm og Mørke løse den ind, Tåge lægge sig over den, Formørkelser skræmme den!
6 That night — let thick darkness take it, Let it not be united to days of the year, Into the number of months let it not come.
Mørket tage den Nat, den høre ej hjemme blandt Årets Dage, den komme ikke i Måneders Tal!
7 Lo! that night — let it be gloomy, Let no singing come into it.
Ja, denne Nat vorde gold, der lyde ej Jubel i den!
8 Let the cursers of day mark it, Who are ready to wake up Leviathan.
De, der besværger Dage, forbande den, de, der har lært at hidse Livjatan";
9 Let the stars of its twilight be dark, Let it wait for light, and there is none, And let it not look on the eyelids of the dawn.
dens Morgenstjerner formørkes, den bie forgæves på Lys, den skue ej Morgenrødens Øjenlåg,
10 Because it hath not shut the doors Of the womb that was mine! And hide misery from mine eyes.
fordi den ej lukked mig Moderlivets Døre og skjulte Kvide for mit Blik!
11 Why from the womb do I not die? From the belly I have come forth and gasp!
Hvi døde jeg ikke i Moders Liv eller udånded straks fra Moders Skød?
12 Wherefore have knees been before me? And what [are] breasts, that I suck?
Hvorfor var der Knæ til at tage imod mig, hvorfor var der Bryster at die?
13 For now, I have lain down, and am quiet, I have slept — then there is rest to me,
Så havde jeg nu ligget og hvilet, så havde jeg slumret i Fred
14 With kings and counsellors of earth, These building wastes for themselves.
blandt Konger og Jordens Styrere, der bygged sig Gravpaladser,
15 Or with princes — they have gold, They are filling their houses [with] silver.
blandt Fyrster, rige på Guld, som fyldte deres Huse med Sølv.
16 (Or as a hidden abortion I am not, As infants — they have not seen light.)
Eller var jeg dog som et nedgravet Foster. som Børn, der ikke fik Lyset at se!
17 There the wicked have ceased troubling, And there rest do the wearied in power.
Der larmer de gudløse ikke mer, der hviler de trætte ud,
18 Together prisoners have been at ease, They have not heard the voice of an exactor,
alle de fangne har Ro, de hører ej Fogedens Røst;
19 Small and great [are] there the same. And a servant [is] free from his lord.
små og store er lige der og Trællen fri for sin Herre.
20 Why giveth He to the miserable light, and life to the bitter soul?
Hvi giver Gud de lidende Lys, de bittert sørgende Liv,
21 Who are waiting for death, and it is not, And they seek it above hid treasures.
dem, som bier forgæves på Døden, graver derefter som efter Skatte,
22 Who are glad — unto joy, They rejoice when they find a grave.
som glæder sig til en Stenhøj, jubler, når de finder deres Grav
23 To a man whose way hath been hidden, And whom God doth shut up?
en Mand, hvis Vej er skjult, hvem Gud har stænget inde?
24 For before my food, my sighing cometh, And poured out as waters [are] my roarings.
Thi Suk er blevet mit daglige Brød, mine Ve råb strømmer som Vand.
25 For a fear I feared and it meeteth me, And what I was afraid of doth come to me.
Thi hvad jeg gruer for, rammer mig, hvad jeg bæver for, kommer over mig.
26 I was not safe — nor was I quiet — Nor was I at rest — and trouble cometh!
Knap har jeg Fred, og knap har jeg Ro, knap har jeg Hvile, så kommer Uro!
