Jobs 9
1 Då tok Job til ords og sagde:
Then Job answered and said:
2 «Eg veit for visst at det er so; kva rett fær mannen imot Gud?
Of a truth, I know that it is so: For how can man be just before God?
3 Um han med honom vilde trætta, han kann’kje svara eitt til tusund.
If he choose to contend with him, He cannot answer him to one charge of a thousand.
4 Vis som han er og sterk i velde - kven kann vel strafflaust tråssa honom,
He is excellent in wisdom, mighty in strength: Who hath hardened himself against him, and prospered?
5 som fjelli flyt, dei veit’kje av det, og velter deim upp i harm,
He removeth the mountains, and they know it not; He overturneth them in his anger.
6 som ruggar jordi frå sin plass, so pilarne hennar skjelv,
He shaketh the earth out of her place, And the pillars thereof tremble.
7 som soli byd so ho ei skin, og set eit segl for stjernorne,
He commandeth the sun, and it riseth not, And he sealeth up the stars.
8 som eine spanar himmeln ut og fram på havsens toppar skrid,
He alone spreadeth out the heavens, And walketh upon the high waves of the sea.
9 hev skapt Karlsvogni og Orion, Sjustjerna og Sørkamri med?
He made the Bear, Orion, and the Pleiades, And the secret chambers of the South.
10 Som storverk gjer, me ei kann fata, og underverk forutan tal?
He doeth great things past finding out, Yea, wonderful things without number.
11 Han framum gjeng, eg ser han ikkje; um burt han glid, eg går han ikkje.
Lo! he goeth by me, but I see him not; He passeth along, but I do not perceive him.
12 Når han tek fat, kven stoggar honom? Kven honom spør: «Kva gjer du der?»
Lo! he seizeth, and who can hinder him? Who will say to him, What doest thou?
13 Gud stoggar ikkje vreiden sin; for han seg bøygde Rahabs-fylgjet.
God will not turn away his anger; The proud helpers are brought low before him.
14 Kor kann vel eg då svara han? Kor skal for han eg ordi leggja?
How much less shall I answer him, And choose out words to contend with him?
15 Um eg hev rett, eg kann’kje svara, men lyt min domar be um nåde.
Though I were innocent, I would not answer him; I would cast myself on the mercy of my judge.
16 Og um han svara når eg ropa, eg trudde ei mi røyst han høyrde.
Should I call, and he make answer to me, I could not believe that he listened to my voice, —
17 Han som i stormver reiv meg burt og auka grunnlaust såri mine,
He who falleth upon me with a tempest, And multiplieth my wounds without cause!
18 han let meg ikkje anda fritt, men metta meg med beiske ting.
Who will not suffer me to take my breath, But filleth me with bitterness!
19 Når magt det gjeld, då er han der; men gjeld det rett: kven stemnar honom?
If I look to strength, “Lo! here am I!” [[saith he, ]] If to justice, “Who shall summon me to trial?”
20 Um eg hev rett, min munn meg dømer; er skuldlaus, han meg domfeller.
Though I were upright, yet must my own mouth condemn me; Though I were innocent, He would prove me perverse.
21 Skuldlaus eg er! eg skyner ei meg sjølv, vanvyrder livet mitt.
Though I were innocent, I would not care for myself; I would despise my life.
22 Det er det same, no eg segjer: Han tyner skuldig og uskuldig.
It is all one; therefore I will affirm, He destroyeth the righteous and the wicked alike.
23 Når svipa brått gjev ulivssår, med lått han ser den gode lida.
When the scourge bringeth sudden destruction, He laugheth at the sufferings of the innocent.
24 Han jordi gav i nidings hand; på domarar han syni kverver. Er det’kje han, kven er det då?
The earth is given into the hands of the wicked; He covereth the face of the judges thereof; If it be not He, who is it?
25 Mitt liv fer snøggare enn lauparen, dei kverv, men lukka såg det aldri;
My days have been swifter than a courier; They have fled away; they have seen no good.
26 Det glid som båtar utav sev, lik ørn som ned på fengdi slær.
They have gone by like the reed-skiffs; Like the eagle, darting upon his prey.
27 Når eg mi plåga gløyma vil og jamna panna mi og smila,
If I say, I will forget my lamentation, I will change my countenance, and take courage,
28 då gruvar eg for pina mi; eg veit du ei frikjenner meg.
Still am I in dread of the multitude of my sorrows; For I know that thou wilt not hold me innocent.
29 For når eg lyt straffskuldig vera, kvifor skal eg då fåfengt stræva?
I shall be found guilty; Why then should I labor in vain?
30 Um eg i snø meg vilde tvætta og reinsa henderne med lut.
If I wash myself in snow, And cleanse my hands with lye,
31 Du ned i grefti straks meg dukka, so mine klæde ved meg stygdest.
Still wilt thou plunge me into the pit, So that my own clothes will abhor me.
32 Han ikkje er ein mann som eg, kann ei med meg til retten gå;
For He is not a man, as I am, that I may contend with him, And that we may go together into judgment;
33 d’er ingen skilsmann millom oss som handi si kann på oss leggja.
There is no umpire between us, Who may lay his hand upon us both.
34 Når berre han tok riset frå meg og ikkje skræmde meg med rædsla,
Let him take from me his rod, And not dismay me with his terrors,
35 eg skulde tala utan otte; sjølv dømer eg meg annarleis.
Then I will speak, and not be afraid of him: For I am not so at heart.
