Job 24

Hvorfor har ej den Almægtige opsparet Tider, hvi får de, som kender ham, ikke hans Dage at se?

Why, seeing times are not hidden from the Almighty, do they that know him not see his days?

De onde flytter Markskel, ranede Hjorde har de på Græs.

Some remove the landmarks; they violently take away flocks, and feed thereof.

faderløses Æsel fører de bort, tager Enkens Okse som Borgen:

They drive away the ass of the fatherless, they take the widow's ox for a pledge.

de trænger de fattige af Vejen. Landets arme må alle skjule sig.

They turn the needy out of the way: the poor of the earth hide themselves together.

Som vilde Æsler i Ørkenen går de ud til deres Gerning søgende efter Næring; Steppen er Brød for Børnene.

Behold, as wild asses in the desert, go they forth to their work; rising betimes for a prey: the wilderness yieldeth food for them and for their children.

De høster på Marken om Natten, i Rigmandens Vingård sanker de efter.

They reap every one his corn in the field: and they gather the vintage of the wicked.

Om Natten ligger de nøgne, uden Klæder, uden Tæppe i Hulden.

They cause the naked to lodge without clothing, that they have no covering in the cold.

De vædes af Bjergenes Regnskyl, klamrer sig af Mangel på Ly til Klippen.

They are wet with the showers of the mountains, and embrace the rock for want of a shelter.

- Man river den faderløse fra Brystet, tager den armes Barn som Borgen.

They pluck the fatherless from the breast, and take a pledge of the poor.

Nøgne vandrer de, uden Klæder, sultne bærer de Neg;

They cause him to go naked without clothing, and they take away the sheaf from the hungry;

mellem Murene presser de Olie. de træder Persen og tørster.

Which make oil within their walls, and tread their winepresses, and suffer thirst.

De drives fra By og Hus, og Børnenes Hunger skriger. Men Gud, han ænser ej vrangt.

Men groan from out of the city, and the soul of the wounded crieth out: yet God layeth not folly to them.

Andre hører til Lysets Fjender, de kender ikke hans Veje og holder sig ej på hans Stier:

They are of those that rebel against the light; they know not the ways thereof, nor abide in the paths thereof.

Før det lysner, står Morderen op, han myrder arm og fattig; om Natten sniger Tyven sig om;

The murderer rising with the light killeth the poor and needy, and in the night is as a thief.

Horkarlens Øje lurer på Skumring, han tænker: "Intet Øje kan se mig!" og skjuler sit Ansigt under en Maske.

The eye also of the adulterer waiteth for the twilight, saying, No eye shall see me: and disguiseth his face.

I Mørke bryder de ind i Huse, de lukker sig inde om Dagen, thi ingen af dem vil vide af Lys.

In the dark they dig through houses, which they had marked for themselves in the daytime: they know not the light.

For dem er Mørket Morgen, thide er kendt med Mørkets Rædsler.

For the morning is to them even as the shadow of death: if one know them, they are in the terrors of the shadow of death.

Over Vandfladen jages han hen, hans Arvelod i Landet forbandes, han færdes ikke på Vejen til Vingården.

He is swift as the waters; their portion is cursed in the earth: he beholdeth not the way of the vineyards.

Som Tørke og Hede tager Snevand, så Dødsriget dem, der har syndet.

Drought and heat consume the snow waters: so doth the grave those which have sinned.

Han er glemt på sin Hjemstavns Torv, hans Storhed kommes ej mer i Hu, Uretten knækkes som Træet.

The womb shall forget him; the worm shall feed sweetly on him; he shall be no more remembered; and wickedness shall be broken as a tree.

Han var ond mod den golde, der ikke fødte, mod Enken gjorde han ikke vel;

He evil entreateth the barren that beareth not: and doeth not good to the widow.

dem, det gik skævt, rev han bort i sin Vælde. Han står op og er ikke tryg på sit Liv,

He draweth also the mighty with his power: he riseth up, and no man is sure of life.

han styrtes uden Håb og Støtte, og på hans Veje er idel Nød.

Though it be given him to be in safety, whereon he resteth; yet his eyes are upon their ways.

Hans Storhed er stakket, så er han ej mer, han bøjes og skrumper ind som Melde og skæres af som Aksenes Top.

They are exalted for a little while, but are gone and brought low; they are taken out of the way as all other, and cut off as the tops of the ears of corn.

Og hvis ikke - hvo gør mig til Løgner, hvo gør mine Ord til intet?

And if it be not so now, who will make me a liar, and make my speech nothing worth?