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 the younger in time scorn me, whose fathers I would not have set 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 to me as nothing, and they were thought unworthy of life itself.
3 Dei magre er av naud og svolt, dei gneg i turre øydemarki som alt i går var reine audni,
Barren with want and hunger, who gnawed in the wilderness, disfigured with calamity and misery.
4 og plukkar melde millom kjørri og hev til føda einerot.
And they ate grass, and barks of trees, and the root of junipers was their food.
5 Frå folket vert dei jaga burt, fær tjuvemann slengt etter seg.
Who snatched up these things out of the valleys, and when they had found any of them, they ran to them with a cry.
6 Dei gøymer seg i fæle gil, i holor uti jord og fjell;
They dwelt in the desert places of torrents, and in caves of earth, or upon the gravel.
7 og millom buskor skrålar dei og samlast under netlerunnar;
They pleased themselves among these kind of things, and counted it delightful to be under the briers.
8 ei ætt av dårar og namnlause som ein helst piskar ut or landet.
The children of foolish and base men, and not appearing at all upon the earth.
9 No er eg slengjestev for deim, eit ordtak hev for deim eg vorte.
Now I am turned into their song, and am become their byword.
10 Dei styggjest ved meg, held seg burte og sparer ei å sputta på meg.
They abhor me, and flee far from me, and are not afraid to spit in my face.
11 Utan all blygd dei krenkjer meg, hiv av kvart band framfor mi åsyn.
For he hath opened his quiver, and hath afflicted me, and hath put a bridle into my mouth.
12 Eit utjo reiser seg til høgre, dei spenner mine føter burt, og legg ulukke-vegar mot meg.
At the right hand of my rising, my calamities forthwith arose: they have overthrown my feet, and have overwhelmed me with their paths as with waves.
13 Og stigen min den bryt dei upp og hjelper til med mi ulukka, dei som er hjelpelause sjølv.
They have destroyed my ways, they have lain in wait against me, and they have prevailed, and there was none to help.
14 Som gjenom vide murbrot kjem dei, velter seg fram med bråk og brak.
They have rushed in upon me, as when a wall is broken, and a gate opened, and have rolled themselves down to my miseries.
15 Imot meg vender rædslor seg, mi æra elter dei som stormen, mi velferd kvarv som lette sky.
I am brought to nothing: as a wind thou hast taken away my desire: and my prosperity hath passed away like a cloud.
16 No jamrar seg mi sjæl i meg; usæle dagar held meg fast.
And now my soul fadeth within myself, and the days of affliction possess me.
17 Natti gneg mine knokar av meg, min verk, mi pina aldri søv.
In the night my bone is pierced with sorrows: and they that feed upon me, do not sleep.
18 Ved allmagt vert min klædnad vanstelt, heng tett som skjortekragen kring meg.
With the multitude of them my garment is consumed, and they have girded me about, as with the collar of my coat.
19 Han kasta meg i skarnet ned; og eg ser ut som mold og oska.
I am compared to dirt, and am likened to embers and ashes.
20 Eg skrik til deg, du svarar ikkje, eg stend der, og du stirer på meg.
I cry to thee, and thou hearest me not: I stand up, and thou dost not regard me.
21 Hard hev du vorte imot meg, du stri’r mot meg med veldug hand.
Thou art changed to be cruel toward me, and in the hardness of thy hand thou art against me.
22 Du let meg fara burt i stormen, du let meg tynast i hans brus.
Thou hast lifted me up, and set me as it were upon the wind, and thou hast mightily dashed me.
23 Eg veit du fører meg til dauden, der alt som liver samlast lyt.
I know that thou wilt deliver me to death, where a house is appointed for every one that liveth.
24 Kven kavar ikkje når han søkk? Kven ropar ikkje ut i fåren?
But yet thou stretchest not forth thy hand to their consumption: and if they shall fall down thou wilt save.
25 Gret eg’kje sjølv med den fortrykte, og syrgde yver fatigmann?
I wept heretofore for him that 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, and evils are come upon me: I waited for light, and darkness broke out.
27 Det kokar allstødt i mitt indre, ulukkedagen møter meg.
My inner parts have boiled without any rest, the days of affliction have prevented me.
28 Svart gjeng eg kring, men ikkje solbrend, eg ris i flokken, skrik um hjelp.
I went mourning without indignation; I rose up, and cried in the crowd.
29 Bror åt sjakalar hev eg vorte, til strussar eg ein frende er.
I was the brother of dragons, and companion of ostriches.
30 Mi hud er svart og flaknar av; det brenn i mine bein av hite.
My skin is become black upon me, and my bones are dried up with heat.
31 Min cither hev eg bytt i sorg, og fløyta mi med gråtar-mål.
My harp is turned to mourning, and my organ into the voice of those that weep.
