Job 16
1 Så tog Job til Orde og svarede:
And Job answered and said,
2 "Nok har jeg hørt af sligt, besværlige Trøstere er I til Hobe!
I have heard many such things: grievous comforters are ye all.
3 Får Mundsvejret aldrig Ende? Hvad ægged dig dog til at svare?
Shall words of wind have an end? or what provoketh thee that thou answerest?
4 Også jeg kunde tale som I, hvis I kun var i mit Sted, føje mine Ord imod jer og ryste på Hovedet ad jer,
I also could speak as ye: if your soul were in my soul's stead, I could join together words against you, and shake my head at you;
5 styrke jer med min Mund, ej spare på ynksomme Ord!
[But] I would encourage you with my mouth, and the solace of my lips should assuage [your pain].
6 Taler jeg, mildnes min Smerte ikke og om jeg tier, hvad Lindring får jeg?
If I speak, my pain is not assuaged; and if I forbear, what am I eased?
7 Dog nu har han udtømt min Kraft, du bar ødelagt hele min Kreds;
But now he hath made me weary; ...thou hast made desolate all my family;
8 at du greb mig, gælder som Vidnesbyrd mod mig, min Magerhed vidner imod mig.
Thou hast shrivelled me up! it is become a witness; and my leanness riseth up against me, it beareth witness to my face.
9 Hans Vrede river og slider i mig, han skærer Tænder imod mig. Fjenderne hvæsser Blikket imod mig,
His anger teareth and pursueth me; he gnasheth with his teeth against me; [as] mine adversary he sharpeneth his eyes at me.
10 de opspiler Gabet imod mig, slår mig med Hån på Kind og flokkes til Hobe omkring mig;
They gape upon me with their mouth; they smite my cheeks reproachfully; they range themselves together against me.
11 Gud gav mig hen i Niddingers Vold, i gudløses Hænder kasted han mig.
God hath delivered me over to the iniquitous man, and hurled me into the hands of the wicked.
12 Jeg leved i Fred, så knuste han mig, han greb mig i Nakken og sønderslog mig; han stilled mig op som Skive,
I was at rest, but he hath shattered me; he hath taken me by the neck and shaken me to pieces, and set me up for his mark.
13 hans Pile flyver omkring mig, han borer i Nyrerne uden Skånsel, udgyder min Galde på Jorden;
His arrows encompass me round about, he cleaveth my reins asunder and doth not spare; he poureth out my gall upon the ground.
14 Revne på Revne slår han mig, stormer som Kriger imod mig.
He breaketh me with breach upon breach; he runneth upon me like a mighty man.
15 Over min Hud har jeg syet Sæk og boret mit Horn i Støvel;
I have sewed sackcloth upon my skin, and rolled my horn in the dust.
16 mit Ansigt er rødt af Gråd, mine Øjenlåg hyllet i Mørke,
My face is red with weeping, and on my eyelids is the shadow of death;
17 skønt der ikke er Vold i min Hånd, og skønt min Bøn er ren!
Although there is no violence in my hands, and my prayer is pure.
18 Dølg ikke, Jord, mit Blod, mit Skrig komme ikke til Hvile!
O earth, cover not my blood, and let there be no place for my cry!
19 Alt nu er mit Vidne i Himlen, min Talsmand er i det høje;
Even now, behold, my Witness is in the heavens, and he that voucheth for me is in the heights.
20 gid min Ven lod sig finde! Mit Øje vender sig med Tårer til Gud,
My friends are my mockers; mine eye poureth out tears unto God.
21 at han skifter Ret mellem Manden og Gud, mellem Mennesket og hans Ven!
Oh that there were arbitration for a man with God, as a son of man for his friend!
22 Thi talte er de kommende År, jeg skal ud på en Færd, jeg ej vender hjem fra.
For years [few] in number shall pass, — and I shall go the way [whence] I shall not return.
