Job 6

But Job answered and said,
Så tog Job til Orde og svarede:
Oh that my grief were throughly weighed, and my calamity laid in the balances together!
"Gid man vejed min Harme og vejed min Ulykke mod den!
For now it would be heavier than the sand of the sea: therefore my words are swallowed up.
Thi tungere er den end Havets Sand, derfor talte jeg over mig!
For the arrows of the Almighty are within me, the poison whereof drinketh up my spirit: the terrors of God do set themselves in array against me.
Thi i mig sidder den Almægtiges Pile, min Ånd inddrikker deres Gift; Rædsler fra Gud forvirrer mig.
Doth the wild ass bray when he hath grass? or loweth the ox over his fodder?
Skriger et Vildæsel midt i Græsset, brøler en Okse ved sit Foder?
Can that which is unsavoury be eaten without salt? or is there any taste in the white of an egg?
Spiser man ferskt uden Salt, smager mon Æggehvide godt?
The things that my soul refused to touch are as my sorrowful meat.
Min Sjæl vil ej røre derved, de Ting er som Lugt af en Løve.
Oh that I might have my request; and that God would grant me the thing that I long for!
Ak, blev mit Ønske dog opfyldt, Gud give mig det, som jeg håber
Even that it would please God to destroy me; that he would let loose his hand, and cut me off!
vilde d dog knuse mig, række Hånden ud og skære mig fra,
Then should I yet have comfort; yea, I would harden myself in sorrow: let him not spare; for I have not concealed the words of the Holy One.
så vilde det være min Trøst - jeg hopped af Glæde trods skånselsløs Kval at jeg ikke har nægtet den Helliges Ord.
What is my strength, that I should hope? and what is mine end, that I should prolong my life?
Hvad er min Kraft, at jeg skal holde ud, min Udgang, at jeg skal være tålmodig?
Is my strength the strength of stones? or is my flesh of brass?
Er da min Kraft som Stenens, er da mit Legeme Kobber?
Is not my help in me? and is wisdom driven quite from me?
Ak, for mig er der ingen Hjælp, hver Udvej lukker sig for mig.
To him that is afflicted pity should be shewed from his friend; but he forsaketh the fear of the Almighty.
Den, der nægter sin Næste Godhed, han bryder med den Almægtiges Frygt.
My brethren have dealt deceitfully as a brook, and as the stream of brooks they pass away;
Mine Brødre sveg mig som en Bæk, som Strømme, hvis Vand svandt bort,
Which are blackish by reason of the ice, and wherein the snow is hid:
de, der var grumset af os, og som Sneen gemte sig i,
What time they wax warm, they vanish: when it is hot, they are consumed out of their place.
men som svandt ved Solens Glød, tørredes sporløst ud i Hede;
The paths of their way are turned aside; they go to nothing, and perish.
Karavaner bøjer af fra Vejen, drager op i Ørkenen og går til Grunde;
The troops of Tema looked, the companies of Sheba waited for them.
Temas Karavaner spejder, Sabas Rejsetog håber på dem,
They were confounded because they had hoped; they came thither, and were ashamed.
men de beskæmmes i deres Tillid, de kommer derhen og skuffes!
For now ye are nothing; ye see my casting down, and are afraid.
Ja, slige Strømme er I mig nu, Rædselen så I og grebes af Skræk!
Did I say, Bring unto me? or, Give a reward for me of your substance?
Har jeg mon sagt: "Giv mig Gaver, løs mig med eders Velstand,
Or, Deliver me from the enemy's hand? or, Redeem me from the hand of the mighty?
red mig af Fjendens Hånd, køb mig fri fra Voldsmænds Hånd!"
Teach me, and I will hold my tongue: and cause me to understand wherein I have erred.
Lær mig, så vil jeg tie, vis mig, hvor jeg har fejlet!
How forcible are right words! but what doth your arguing reprove?
Redelig Tale, se, den gør Indtryk; men eders Revselse, hvad er den værd?
Do ye imagine to reprove words, and the speeches of one that is desperate, which are as wind?
Er det jer Hensigt at revse Ord? Den fortvivledes Ord er dog Mundsvejr!
Yea, ye overwhelm the fatherless, and ye dig a pit for your friend.
Selv om en faderløs kasted I Lod og købslog om eders Ven.
Now therefore be content, look upon me; for it is evident unto you if I lie.
Men vilde I nu dog se på mig! Mon jeg lyver jer op i Ansigtet?
Return, I pray you, let it not be iniquity; yea, return again, my righteousness is in it.
Vend jer hid, lad der ikke ske Uret, vend jer, thi end har jeg Ret!
Is there iniquity in my tongue? cannot my taste discern perverse things?
Er der Uret på min Tunge, eller skelner min Gane ej, hvad der er ondt?