Job 27

Moreover Job continued his parable, and said,
Job vedblev at fremsætte sit Tankesprog:
As God liveth, who hath taken away my judgment; and the Almighty, who hath vexed my soul;
"Så sandt Gud lever, som satte min Ret til Side, den Almægtige, som gjorde mig mod i Hu:
All the while my breath is in me, and the spirit of God is in my nostrils;
Så længe jeg drager Ånde og har Guds Ånde i Næsen,
My lips shall not speak wickedness, nor my tongue utter deceit.
skal mine Læber ej tale Uret, min Tunge ej fare med Svig!
God forbid that I should justify you: till I die I will not remove mine integrity from me.
Langt være det fra mig at give jer Ret; til jeg udånder, opgiver jeg ikke min Uskyld.
My righteousness I hold fast, and will not let it go: my heart shall not reproach me so long as I live.
Jeg hævder min Ret, jeg slipper den ikke, ingen af mine Dage piner mit Sind.
Let mine enemy be as the wicked, and he that riseth up against me as the unrighteous.
Som den gudløse gå det min Fjende, min Modstander som den lovløse!
For what is the hope of the hypocrite, though he hath gained, when God taketh away his soul?
Thi hvad er den vanhelliges Håb, når Gud bortskærer og kræver hans Sjæl?
Will God hear his cry when trouble cometh upon him?
Hører mon Gud hans Skrig, når Angst kommer over ham?
Will he delight himself in the Almighty? will he always call upon God?
Mon han kan fryde sig over den Almægtige, føjer han ham, når han påkalder ham?
I will teach you by the hand of God: that which is with the Almighty will I not conceal.
Jeg vil lære jer om Guds Hånd, den Almægtiges Tanker dølger jeg ikke;
Behold, all ye yourselves have seen it; why then are ye thus altogether vain?
se, selv har I alle set det, hvi har I så tomme Tanker?
This is the portion of a wicked man with God, and the heritage of oppressors, which they shall receive of the Almighty.
Det er den gudløses Lod fra Gud, Arven, som Voldsmænd får fra den Almægtige:
If his children be multiplied, it is for the sword: and his offspring shall not be satisfied with bread.
Vokser hans Sønner, er det for Sværdet, hans Afkom mættes ikke med Brød;
Those that remain of him shall be buried in death: and his widows shall not weep.
de øvrige bringer Pesten i Graven, deres Enker kan ej holde Klage over dem.
Though he heap up silver as the dust, and prepare raiment as the clay;
Opdynger han Sølv som Støv og samler sig Klæder som Ler
He may prepare it, but the just shall put it on, and the innocent shall divide the silver.
han samler, men den retfærdige klæder sig i dem, og Sølvet arver den skyldfri;
He buildeth his house as a moth, and as a booth that the keeper maketh.
han bygger sit Hus som en Edderkops, som Hytten, en Vogter gør sig;
The rich man shall lie down, but he shall not be gathered: he openeth his eyes, and he is not.
han lægger sig rig, men for sidste ang, han slår Øjnene op, og er det ej mer;
Terrors take hold on him as waters, a tempest stealeth him away in the night.
Rædsler når ham som Vande, ved Nat river Stormen ham bort;
The east wind carrieth him away, and he departeth: and as a storm hurleth him out of his place.
løftet af Østenstorm farer han bort, den fejer ham væk fra hans Sted.
For God shall cast upon him, and not spare: he would fain flee out of his hand.
Skånselsløst skyder han på ham, i Hast må han fly fra hans Hånd;
Men shall clap their hands at him, and shall hiss him out of his place.
man klapper i Hænderne mod ham og piber ham bort fra hans Sted!