Jobs 16

1 Då svara Job og sagde:

Then Job answered and said:

2 «Eg hev høyrt nok av dette slag; d’er brysam trøyst de alle gjev.

I have heard many such things; sorry comforters are ye all.

3 Vert det’kje slutt på tome ord? Kva er det som til svar deg driv?

Shall windy words have an end? Or what provoketh thee that thou answerest?

4 Eg skulde tala liksom de, i fall de var i staden min; eg sette ord i hop mot dykk, eg riste hovudet mot dykk;

I also could speak as ye do; if your soul were in my soul's stead, I could join words together against you, and shake my head at you.

5 eg skulde trøysta dykk med munnen og lindra dykk med lippemedynk.

I would strengthen you with my mouth, and the moving of my lips would assuage your grief.

6 Men tale lindrar ei min verk, og ikkje kverv han um eg tegjer.

Though I speak, my pain is not assuaged; and though I forbear, what am I eased?

7 Men no hev han meg trøytta ut, du hev øydt ut min heile huslyd.

But now He hath made me weary; Thou hast made desolate all my company.

8 Du klemde meg, til vitne vart det, mi liding reiste seg imot meg og vitna mot meg beint i syni.

And Thou hast shrivelled me up, which is a witness against me; and my leanness riseth up against me, it testifieth to my face.

9 Hans vreide reiv og elte meg; han gnistra tennerne imot meg; fiendar kveste augo på meg

He hath torn me in His wrath, and hated me; He hath gnashed upon me with His teeth; mine adversary sharpeneth his eyes upon me.

10 og opna munnen sin imot meg og slo mi kinn med skjemdarslag og stima saman imot meg.

They have gaped upon me with their mouth; they have smitten me upon the cheek scornfully; they gather themselves together against me.

11 Til farkar Gud meg yverlet og kastar meg i brotsmenns vald.

God delivereth me to the ungodly, and casteth me into the hands of the wicked.

12 Midt i min fred han skræmde meg, treiv meg i nakken, krasa meg, til skiva sette han meg upp.

I was at ease, and He broke me asunder; yea, He hath taken me by the neck, and dashed me to pieces; He hath also set me up for His mark.

13 Hans pilar svirrar kringum meg; bønlaust han kløyver mine nyro, mitt gall han tømer ut på jordi.

His archers compass me round about, He cleaveth my reins asunder, and doth not spare; He poureth out my gall upon the ground.

14 Han bryt meg sund med brot på brot og stormar mot meg som ei kjempa.

He breaketh me with breach upon breach; He runneth upon me like a giant.

15 Sekk hev eg sytt um hudi mi og stukke hornet mitt i moldi.

I have sewed sackcloth upon my skin, and have laid my horn in the dust.

16 Raudt er mitt andlit utav gråt, og myrkret tyngjer augneloki,

My face is reddened with weeping, and on my eyelids is the shadow of death;

17 endå mi hand er rein for vald, og bøni mi er fri for svik.

Although there is no violence in my hands, and my prayer is pure.

18 Løyn ikkje blodet mitt, du jord! Legg ikkje klaga mi til kvile!

O earth, cover not thou my blood, and let my cry have no resting-place.

19 Alt no mitt vitne er i himmeln, min målsmann i det høge bur.

Even now, behold, my Witness is in heaven, and He that testifieth of me is on high.

20 Når mine vener spottar meg; til Gud eg tårut auga vender.

Mine inward thoughts are my intercessors, mine eye poureth out tears unto God;

21 Han døme millom Gud og mann og millom mannen og hans ven.

That He would set aright a man contending with God, as a son of man setteth aright his neighbour!

22 Og ikkje mange år det vert fyrr eg gjeng burt og kjem’kje att.

For the years that are few are coming on, and I shall go the way whence I shall not return.