Job 41

Kan du trække Krokodillen op med Krog og binde dens Tunge med Snøre?

Canst thou draw out leviathan with an hook? or his tongue with a cord which thou lettest down?

Kan du mon stikke et Siv i dens Snude, bore en Krog igennem dens Kæber?

Canst thou put an hook into his nose? or bore his jaw through with a thorn?

Mon den vil trygle dig længe og give dig gode Ord?

Will he make many supplications unto thee? will he speak soft words unto thee?

Mon den vil indgå en Pagt med dig, så du får den til Træl for evigt?

Will he make a covenant with thee? wilt thou take him for a servant for ever?

Han du mon lege med den som en Fugl og tøjre den for dine Pigebørn?

Wilt thou play with him as with a bird? or wilt thou bind him for thy maidens?

Falbyder Fiskerlauget den og stykker den ud mellem Sælgerne?

Shall the companions make a banquet of him? shall they part him among the merchants?

Mon du kan spække dens Hud med Kroge og med Harpuner dens Hoved?

Canst thou fill his skin with barbed irons? or his head with fish spears?

Læg dog engang din Hånd på den! Du vil huske den Kamp og gør det ej mer.

Lay thine hand upon him, remember the battle, do no more.

Det Håb vilde blive til Skamme, alene ved Synet lå du der.

Behold, the hope of him is in vain: shall not one be cast down even at the sight of him?

Ingen drister sig til at tirre den, hvem holder Stand imod den?

None is so fierce that dare stir him up: who then is able to stand before me?

Hvem møder den og slipper fra det hvem under hele Himlen?

Who hath prevented me, that I should repay him? whatsoever is under the whole heaven is mine.

Jeg tier ej om dens Lemmer, hvor stærk den er, hvor smukt den er skabt.

I will not conceal his parts, nor his power, nor his comely proportion.

Hvem har trukket dens Klædning af, trængt ind i dens dobbelte Panser?

Who can discover the face of his garment? or who can come to him with his double bridle?

Hvem har åbnet dens Ansigts Døre? Rundt om dens Tænder er Rædsel.

Who can open the doors of his face? his teeth are terrible round about.

Dens Ryg er Reder af Skjolde, dens Bryst er et Segl af Sten;

His scales are his pride, shut up together as with a close seal.

de sidder tæt ved hverandre, Luft kommer ikke ind derimellem;

One is so near to another, that no air can come between them.

de hænger fast ved hverandre, uadskilleligt griber de ind i hverandre.

They are joined one to another, they stick together, that they cannot be sundered.

Dens Nysen fremkalder strålende Lys, som Morgenrødens Øjenlåg er dens Øjne.

By his neesings a light doth shine, and his eyes are like the eyelids of the morning.

Ud af dens Gab farer Fakler, Ildgnister spruder der frem.

Out of his mouth go burning lamps, and sparks of fire leap out.

Em står ud af dens Næsebor som af en ophedet, kogende Kedel.

Out of his nostrils goeth smoke, as out of a seething pot or caldron.

Dens Ånde tænder som glødende Kul, Luer står ud af dens Gab.

His breath kindleth coals, and a flame goeth out of his mouth.

Styrken bor på dens Hals, og Angsten hopper foran den.

In his neck remaineth strength, and sorrow is turned into joy before him.

Tæt sidder Kødets Knuder, som støbt til Kroppen; de rokkes ikke;

The flakes of his flesh are joined together: they are firm in themselves; they cannot be moved.

fast som Sten er dens Hjerte støbt, fast som den nederste Møllesten.

His heart is as firm as a stone; yea, as hard as a piece of the nether millstone.

Når den rejser sig, gyser Helte, fra Sans og Samling går de af Skræk.

When he raiseth up himself, the mighty are afraid: by reason of breakings they purify themselves.

Angriberens Sværd holder ikke Stand, ej Kastevåben, Spyd eller Pil.

The sword of him that layeth at him cannot hold: the spear, the dart, nor the habergeon.

Jern regner den kun for Halm og Kobber for trøsket Træ;

He esteemeth iron as straw, and brass as rotten wood.

Buens Søn slår den ikke på Flugt, Slyngens Sten bliver Strå for den,

The arrow cannot make him flee: slingstones are turned with him into stubble.

Stridskøllen regnes for Rør, den ler ad det svirrende Spyd.

Darts are counted as stubble: he laugheth at the shaking of a spear.

På Bugen er der skarpe Rande, dens Spor i Dyndet er som Tærskeslædens;

Sharp stones are under him: he spreadeth sharp pointed things upon the mire.

Dybet får den i Kog som en Gryde, en Salvekedel gør den af Floden;

He maketh the deep to boil like a pot: he maketh the sea like a pot of ointment.

bag den er der en lysende Sti, Dybet synes som Sølverhår.

He maketh a path to shine after him; one would think the deep to be hoary.

Dens Lige findes ikke på Jord, den er skabt til ikke at frygte.

Upon earth there is not his like, who is made without fear.

Alt, hvad højt er, ræddes for den, den er Konge over alle stolte Dyr.

He beholdeth all high things: he is a king over all the children of pride.