Job 30
1 And now, laughed at me, Have the younger in days than I, Whose fathers I have loathed to set With the dogs of my flock.
Nu derimod ler de ad mig, Folk, der er yngre end jeg, hvis Fædre jeg fandt for ringe at sætte iblandt mine Hyrdehunde.
2 Also — the power of their hands, why [is it] to me? On them hath old age perished.
Og hvad skulde jeg med deres Hænders Kraft? Deres Ungdomskraft har de mistet,
3 With want and with famine gloomy, Those fleeing to a dry place, Formerly a desolation and waste,
tørrede hen af Trang og Sult. De afgnaver Ørk og Ødemark
4 Those cropping mallows near a shrub, And broom-roots [is] their food.
og plukker Melde ved Krattet, Gyvelrødder er deres Brød.
5 From the midst they are cast out, (They shout against them as a thief),
Fra Samfundet drives de bort, som ad Tyve råbes der efter dem.
6 In a frightful place of valleys to dwell, Holes of earth and clefts.
De bor i Kløfter, fulde af Rædsler, i Jordens og Klippernes Huler.
7 Among shrubs they do groan, Under nettles they are gathered together.
De brøler imellem Buske, i Tornekrat kommer de sammen,
8 Sons of folly — even sons without name, They have been smitten from the land.
en dum og navnløs Æt, de joges med Hug af Lande.
9 And now, their song I have been, And I am to them for a byword.
Men nu er jeg Hånsang for dem, jeg er dem et Samtaleemne;
10 They have abominated me, They have kept far from me, And from before me have not spared to spit.
de afskyr mig, holder sig fra mig, nægter sig ikke af spytte ad mig.
11 Because His cord He loosed and afflicteth me, And the bridle from before me, They have cast away.
Thi han løste min Buestreng, ydmyged mig, og foran mig kasted de Tøjlerne af.
12 On the right hand doth a brood arise, My feet they have cast away, And they raise up against me, Their paths of calamity.
Til højre rejser sig Ynglen, Fødderne slår de fra mig, bygger sig Ulykkesveje imod mig
13 They have broken down my path, By my calamity they profit, 'He hath no helper.'
min Sti har de opbrudt, de hjælper med til mit Fald, og ingen hindrer dem i det;
14 As a wide breach they come, Under the desolation have rolled themselves.
de kommer som gennem et gabende Murbrud, vælter sig frem under Ruiner,
15 He hath turned against me terrors, It pursueth as the wind mine abundance, And as a thick cloud, Hath my safety passed away.
Rædsler har vendt sig imod mig; min Værdighed joges bort som af Storm, min Lykke svandt som en Sky.
16 And now, in me my soul poureth itself out, Seize me do days of affliction.
Min Sjæl opløser sig i mig; Elendigheds Dage har ramt mig:
17 At night my bone hath been pierced in me, And mine eyelids do not lie down.
Natten borer i mine Knogler, aldrig blunder de nagende Smerter.
18 By the abundance of power, Is my clothing changed, As the mouth of my coat it doth gird me.
Med vældig Kraft vanskabes mit Kød, det hænger om mig, som var det min Kjortel.
19 Casting me into mire, And I am become like dust and ashes.
Han kasted mig ud i Dynd, jeg er blevet som Støv og Aske.
20 I cry unto Thee, And Thou dost not answer me, I have stood, and Thou dost consider me.
Jeg skriger til dig, du svarer mig ikke, du står der og ænser mig ikke;
21 Thou art turned to be fierce to me, With the strength of Thy hand, Thou oppressest me.
grum er du blevet imod mig, forfølger mig med din vældige Hånd.
22 Thou dost lift me up, On the wind Thou dost cause me to ride, And Thou meltest — Thou levellest me.
Du løfter og vejrer mig hen i Stormen, og dens Brusen gennemryster mig;
23 For I have known To death Thou dost bring me back, And [to] the house appointed for all living.
thi jeg ved, du fører mig hjem til Døden, til det Hus, hvor alt levende samles.
24 Surely not against the heap Doth He send forth the hand, Though in its ruin they have safety.
Dog, mon den druknende ej rækker Hånden ud og råber om Hjælp, når han går under?
25 Did not I weep for him whose day is hard? Grieved hath my soul for the needy.
Mon ikke jeg græder over den, som havde det hårdt, sørgede ikke min Sjæl for den fattiges Skyld?
26 When good I expected, then cometh evil, And I wait for light, and darkness cometh.
Jeg biede på Lykke, men Ulykke kom, jeg håbed på Lys, men Mørke kom;
27 My bowels have boiled, and have not ceased, Gone before me have days of affliction.
ustandseligt koger det i mig, Elendigheds Dage traf mig;
28 Mourning I have gone without the sun, I have risen, in an assembly I cry.
trøstesløs går jeg i Sorg, i Forsamlingen rejser jeg mig og råber;
29 A brother I have been to dragons, And a companion to daughters of the ostrich.
Sjakalernes Broder blev jeg, Strudsenes Fælle.
30 My skin hath been black upon me, And my bone hath burned from heat,
Min Hud er sort, falder af, mine Knogler brænder af Hede;
31 And my harp doth become mourning, And my organ the sound of weeping.
min Citer er blevet til Sorg, min Fløjte til hulkende Gråd!
