Jobs 30
1 Men no er eg til spott for deim som yngre er av år enn eg; eg deira feder ikkje fann verdige plass hjå gjætarhunden.
But now, those younger in years scorn me, whose fathers I would not have seen fit to place with the dogs of my flock,
2 Magtlause er og deira hender, og deira saft og kraft er burte;
the strength of whose hands was nothing to me, and they were considered unworthy of life itself.
3 Dei magre er av naud og svolt, dei gneg i turre øydemarki som alt i går var reine audni,
They were barren from poverty and hunger; they gnawed in solitude, layered with misfortune and misery.
4 og plukkar melde millom kjørri og hev til føda einerot.
And they chewed grass and the bark from trees, and the root of junipers was their food.
5 Frå folket vert dei jaga burt, fær tjuvemann slengt etter seg.
They took these things from the steep valleys, and when they discovered one of these things, they rushed to the others with a cry.
6 Dei gøymer seg i fæle gil, i holor uti jord og fjell;
They lived in the parched desert and in caves underground or above the rocks.
7 og millom buskor skrålar dei og samlast under netlerunnar;
They rejoiced among these kinds of things, and they considered it delightful to be under thorns.
8 ei ætt av dårar og namnlause som ein helst piskar ut or landet.
These are the sons of foolish and base men, not even paying any attention to the land.
9 No er eg slengjestev for deim, eit ordtak hev for deim eg vorte.
Now I become their song, and I have been made into their proverb.
10 Dei styggjest ved meg, held seg burte og sparer ei å sputta på meg.
They loathe me, and so they flee far from me, and they are not reluctant to spit in my face.
11 Utan all blygd dei krenkjer meg, hiv av kvart band framfor mi åsyn.
For he has opened his quiver and has afflicted me, and he has placed a bridle in my mouth.
12 Eit utjo reiser seg til høgre, dei spenner mine føter burt, og legg ulukke-vegar mot meg.
Immediately, upon rising, my calamities rise up to the right. They have overturned my feet and have pressed me down along their way like waves.
13 Og stigen min den bryt dei upp og hjelper til med mi ulukka, dei som er hjelpelause sjølv.
They have diverted my journeys; they have waited to ambush me, and they have prevailed, and there was no one who might bring help.
14 Som gjenom vide murbrot kjem dei, velter seg fram med bråk og brak.
They have rushed upon me, as when a wall is broken or a gate opened, and they have been pulled down into my miseries.
15 Imot meg vender rædslor seg, mi æra elter dei som stormen, mi velferd kvarv som lette sky.
I have been reduced to nothing. You have taken away my desire like a wind, and my health has passed by like a cloud.
16 No jamrar seg mi sjæl i meg; usæle dagar held meg fast.
But now my soul withers within myself, and the days of affliction take hold of me.
17 Natti gneg mine knokar av meg, min verk, mi pina aldri søv.
At night, my bone is pierced with sorrows, and those who feed on me, do not sleep.
18 Ved allmagt vert min klædnad vanstelt, heng tett som skjortekragen kring meg.
By the sheer number of them my clothing is worn away, and they have closed in on me like the collar of my coat.
19 Han kasta meg i skarnet ned; og eg ser ut som mold og oska.
I have been treated like dirt, and I have been turned into embers and ashes.
20 Eg skrik til deg, du svarar ikkje, eg stend der, og du stirer på meg.
I cry to you, and you do not heed me. I stand up, and you do not look back at me.
21 Hard hev du vorte imot meg, du stri’r mot meg med veldug hand.
You have changed me into hardness, and, with the hardness of your hand, you oppose me.
22 Du let meg fara burt i stormen, du let meg tynast i hans brus.
You have lifted me up, and, placing me as if on the wind, you have thrown me down powerfully.
23 Eg veit du fører meg til dauden, der alt som liver samlast lyt.
I know that you will hand me over to death, where a home has been established for all the living.
24 Kven kavar ikkje når han søkk? Kven ropar ikkje ut i fåren?
Truly, then, you do not extend your hand in order to consume them, and if they fall down, you will save them.
25 Gret eg’kje sjølv med den fortrykte, og syrgde yver fatigmann?
Once, I wept over him who was afflicted, and my soul had compassion on the poor.
26 Eg vona godt, men det kom vondt, eg venta ljos, men myrker kom.
I expected good things, but evil things have come to me. I stood ready for light, yet darkness burst forth.
27 Det kokar allstødt i mitt indre, ulukkedagen møter meg.
My insides have seethed, without any rest, for the days of affliction have prevented it.
28 Svart gjeng eg kring, men ikkje solbrend, eg ris i flokken, skrik um hjelp.
I went forth mourning, without anger, and rising up, I cried out in confusion.
29 Bror åt sjakalar hev eg vorte, til strussar eg ein frende er.
I was the brother of snakes, and the companion of ostriches.
30 Mi hud er svart og flaknar av; det brenn i mine bein av hite.
My skin has become blackened over me, and my bones have dried up because of the heat.
31 Min cither hev eg bytt i sorg, og fløyta mi med gråtar-mål.
My harp has been turned into mourning, and my pipes have been turned into a voice of weeping.
