Job 41
1 Dost thou draw leviathan with an angle? And with a rope thou lettest down — his tongue?
Kan du trække Krokodillen op med Krog og binde dens Tunge med Snøre?
2 Dost thou put a reed in his nose? And with a thorn pierce his jaw?
Kan du mon stikke et Siv i dens Snude, bore en Krog igennem dens Kæber?
3 Doth he multiply unto thee supplications? Doth he speak unto thee tender things?
Mon den vil trygle dig længe og give dig gode Ord?
4 Doth he make a covenant with thee? Dost thou take him for a servant age-during?
Mon den vil indgå en Pagt med dig, så du får den til Træl for evigt?
5 Dost thou play with him as a bird? And dost thou bind him for thy damsels?
Han du mon lege med den som en Fugl og tøjre den for dine Pigebørn?
6 (Feast upon him do companions, They divide him among the merchants!)
Falbyder Fiskerlauget den og stykker den ud mellem Sælgerne?
7 Dost thou fill with barbed irons his skin? And with fish-spears his head?
Mon du kan spække dens Hud med Kroge og med Harpuner dens Hoved?
8 Place on him thy hand, Remember the battle — do not add!
Læg dog engang din Hånd på den! Du vil huske den Kamp og gør det ej mer.
9 Lo, the hope of him is found a liar, Also at his appearance is not one cast down?
Det Håb vilde blive til Skamme, alene ved Synet lå du der.
10 None so fierce that he doth awake him, And who [is] he before Me stationeth himself?
Ingen drister sig til at tirre den, hvem holder Stand imod den?
11 Who hath brought before Me and I repay? Under the whole heavens it [is] mine.
Hvem møder den og slipper fra det hvem under hele Himlen?
12 I do not keep silent concerning his parts, And the matter of might, And the grace of his arrangement.
Jeg tier ej om dens Lemmer, hvor stærk den er, hvor smukt den er skabt.
13 Who hath uncovered the face of his clothing? Within his double bridle who doth enter?
Hvem har trukket dens Klædning af, trængt ind i dens dobbelte Panser?
14 The doors of his face who hath opened? Round about his teeth [are] terrible.
Hvem har åbnet dens Ansigts Døre? Rundt om dens Tænder er Rædsel.
15 A pride — strong ones of shields, Shut up — a close seal.
Dens Ryg er Reder af Skjolde, dens Bryst er et Segl af Sten;
16 One unto another they draw nigh, And air doth not enter between them.
de sidder tæt ved hverandre, Luft kommer ikke ind derimellem;
17 One unto another they adhere, They stick together and are not separated.
de hænger fast ved hverandre, uadskilleligt griber de ind i hverandre.
18 His sneezings cause light to shine, And his eyes [are] as the eyelids of the dawn.
Dens Nysen fremkalder strålende Lys, som Morgenrødens Øjenlåg er dens Øjne.
19 Out of his mouth do flames go, sparks of fire escape.
Ud af dens Gab farer Fakler, Ildgnister spruder der frem.
20 Out of his nostrils goeth forth smoke, As a blown pot and reeds.
Em står ud af dens Næsebor som af en ophedet, kogende Kedel.
21 His breath setteth coals on fire, And a flame from his mouth goeth forth.
Dens Ånde tænder som glødende Kul, Luer står ud af dens Gab.
22 In his neck lodge doth strength, And before him doth grief exult.
Styrken bor på dens Hals, og Angsten hopper foran den.
23 The flakes of his flesh have adhered — Firm upon him — it is not moved.
Tæt sidder Kødets Knuder, som støbt til Kroppen; de rokkes ikke;
24 His heart [is] firm as a stone, Yea, firm as the lower piece.
fast som Sten er dens Hjerte støbt, fast som den nederste Møllesten.
25 From his rising are the mighty afraid, From breakings they keep themselves free.
Når den rejser sig, gyser Helte, fra Sans og Samling går de af Skræk.
26 The sword of his overtaker standeth not, Spear — dart — and lance.
Angriberens Sværd holder ikke Stand, ej Kastevåben, Spyd eller Pil.
27 He reckoneth iron as straw, brass as rotten wood.
Jern regner den kun for Halm og Kobber for trøsket Træ;
28 The son of the bow doth not cause him to flee, Turned by him into stubble are stones of the sling.
Buens Søn slår den ikke på Flugt, Slyngens Sten bliver Strå for den,
29 As stubble have darts been reckoned, And he laugheth at the shaking of a javelin.
Stridskøllen regnes for Rør, den ler ad det svirrende Spyd.
30 Under him [are] sharp points of clay, He spreadeth gold on the mire.
På Bugen er der skarpe Rande, dens Spor i Dyndet er som Tærskeslædens;
31 He causeth to boil as a pot the deep, The sea he maketh as a pot of ointment.
Dybet får den i Kog som en Gryde, en Salvekedel gør den af Floden;
32 After him he causeth a path to shine, One thinketh the deep to be hoary.
bag den er der en lysende Sti, Dybet synes som Sølverhår.
33 There is not on the earth his like, That is made without terror.
Dens Lige findes ikke på Jord, den er skabt til ikke at frygte.
34 Every high thing he doth see, He [is] king over all sons of pride.
Alt, hvad højt er, ræddes for den, den er Konge over alle stolte Dyr.
