Job 6
1 And Job answereth and saith: —
Då tok Job til ords og svara:
2 O that my provocation were thoroughly weighed, And my calamity in balances They would lift up together!
«Um dei mitt mismod vega vilde og få ulukka mi på vegti,
3 For now, than the sands of the sea it is heavier, Therefore my words have been rash.
det tyngjer meir enn havsens sand; difor var ordi mine ville.
4 For arrows of the Mighty [are] with me, Whose poison is drinking up my spirit. Terrors of God array themselves [for] me!
For Allvalds pilar sit i meg, mi ånd lyt suga deira gift; Guds rædslor reiser seg til åtak.
5 Brayeth a wild ass over tender grass? Loweth an ox over his provender?
Skrik asnet vel i grøne eng? Og rautar uksen ved sitt for?
6 Eaten is an insipid thing without salt? Is there sense in the drivel of dreams?
Kven et det smerne utan salt? Kven finn vel smak i eggjekvite?
7 My soul is refusing to touch! They [are] as my sickening food.
Det byd meg mot å røra slikt, det er som min utskjemde mat.
8 O that my request may come, That God may grant my hope!
Å, fekk eg uppfyllt bøni mi! Gav Gud meg det eg vonar på!
9 That God would please — and bruise me, Loose His hand and cut me off!
Ja, vild’ han berre knusa meg, med hand si min livstråd slita!
10 And yet it is my comfort, (And I exult in pain — He doth not spare, ) That I have not hidden The sayings of the Holy One.
Då hadde endå eg mi trøyst; trass pina skulde glad eg hoppa! - Den Heilage sitt ord eg held på.
11 What [is] my power that I should hope? And what mine end That I should prolong my life?
Kva er mi kraft, at eg skuld’ vona? Mi framtid, at eg skulde tola?
12 Is my strength the strength of stones? Is my flesh brazen?
Er krafti mi som steinen sterk? Er kanskje kroppen min av kopar?
13 Is not my help with me, And substance driven from me?
Mi hjelp hev heilt forlate meg; all kvart stydjepunkt er frå meg teke.
14 To a despiser of his friends [is] shame, And the fear of the Mighty he forsaketh.
Ein rådlaus treng av venen kjærleik, um enn han ottast Allvald ei.
15 My brethren have deceived as a brook, As a stream of brooks they pass away.
Som bekken brørne mine sveik, lik bekkjefar som turkar ut.
16 That are black because of ice, By them doth snow hide itself.
Fyrst gruggast dei av bråna is, og snø som blandar seg uti,
17 By the time they are warm they have been cut off, By its being hot they have been Extinguished from their place.
men minkar so i sumarsoli, og kverv til slutt burt i sumarhiten.
18 Turn aside do the paths of their way, They ascend into emptiness, and are lost.
Vegfarande vik av til deim, men kjem til øydemark og døyr.
19 Passengers of Tema looked expectingly, Travellers of Sheba hoped for them.
Kjøpmenn frå Tema skoda dit, flokkar frå Saba vonar trygt;
20 They were ashamed that one hath trusted, They have come unto it and are confounded.
men svikne vert dei i si von; dei narra vert når dei kjem fram.
21 Surely now ye have become the same! Ye see a downfall, and are afraid.
So hev de vorte reint til inkjes, de rædsla såg, og rædde vart!
22 Is it because I said, Give to me? And, By your power bribe for me?
Hev eg då bede dykk um noko? Bad eg dykk løysa meg med gods?
23 And, Deliver me from the hand of an adversary? And, From the hand of terrible ones ransom me?
og frelsa meg frå fiendvald og kjøpa meg frå røvarar?
24 Shew me, and I — I keep silent, And what I have erred, let me understand.
Gjev meg eit svar, so skal eg tegja; seg meg kva eg hev synda med!
25 How powerful have been upright sayings, And what doth reproof from you reprove?
Eit rettvis ord er lækjebot; men last frå dykk er inkje verdt.
26 For reproof — do you reckon words? And for wind — sayings of the desperate.
Du lastar meg for ordi mine; men vonlaus mann so mangt kann segja.
27 Anger on the fatherless ye cause to fall, And are strange to your friend.
De kastar lut um farlaust barn, og handel driv um dykkar ven.
28 And, now, please, look upon me, Even to your face do I lie?
Vilde de berre sjå på meg! Trur de eg lyg dykk upp i augo?
29 Turn back, I pray you, let it not be perverseness, Yea, turn back again — my righteousness [is] in it.
Vend um, lat ikkje urett skje! Vend um, enn hev eg rett i dette.
30 Is there in my tongue perverseness? Discerneth not my palate desirable things?
Finst det vel fals på tunga mi? Kann ei min gom ulukka smaka?
