Job 27
1 Job vedblev at fremsætte sit Tankesprog:
Job again took up his parable, and said,
2 "Så sandt Gud lever, som satte min Ret til Side, den Almægtige, som gjorde mig mod i Hu:
“As God lives, who has taken away my right, the Almighty, who has made my soul bitter
3 Så længe jeg drager Ånde og har Guds Ånde i Næsen,
(for the length of my life is still in me, and the spirit of God is in my nostrils);
4 skal mine Læber ej tale Uret, min Tunge ej fare med Svig!
surely my lips will not speak unrighteousness, neither will my tongue utter deceit.
5 Langt være det fra mig at give jer Ret; til jeg udånder, opgiver jeg ikke min Uskyld.
Far be it from me that I should justify you. Until I die I will not put away my integrity from me.
6 Jeg hævder min Ret, jeg slipper den ikke, ingen af mine Dage piner mit Sind.
I hold fast to my righteousness, and will not let it go. My heart will not reproach me so long as I live.
7 Som den gudløse gå det min Fjende, min Modstander som den lovløse!
“Let my enemy be as the wicked. Let him who rises up against me be as the unrighteous.
8 Thi hvad er den vanhelliges Håb, når Gud bortskærer og kræver hans Sjæl?
For what is the hope of the godless, when he is cut off, when God takes away his life?
9 Hører mon Gud hans Skrig, når Angst kommer over ham?
Will God hear his cry when trouble comes on him?
10 Mon han kan fryde sig over den Almægtige, føjer han ham, når han påkalder ham?
Will he delight himself in the Almighty, and call on God at all times?
11 Jeg vil lære jer om Guds Hånd, den Almægtiges Tanker dølger jeg ikke;
I will teach you about the hand of God. I will not conceal that which is with the Almighty.
12 se, selv har I alle set det, hvi har I så tomme Tanker?
Behold, all of you have seen it yourselves; why then have you become altogether vain?
13 Det er den gudløses Lod fra Gud, Arven, som Voldsmænd får fra den Almægtige:
“This is the portion of a wicked man with God, the heritage of oppressors, which they receive from the Almighty.
14 Vokser hans Sønner, er det for Sværdet, hans Afkom mættes ikke med Brød;
If his children are multiplied, it is for the sword. His offspring will not be satisfied with bread.
15 de øvrige bringer Pesten i Graven, deres Enker kan ej holde Klage over dem.
Those who remain of him will be buried in death. His widows will make no lamentation.
16 Opdynger han Sølv som Støv og samler sig Klæder som Ler
Though he heap up silver as the dust, and prepare clothing as the clay;
17 han samler, men den retfærdige klæder sig i dem, og Sølvet arver den skyldfri;
he may prepare it, but the just will put it on, and the innocent will divide the silver.
18 han bygger sit Hus som en Edderkops, som Hytten, en Vogter gør sig;
He builds his house as the moth, as a booth which the watchman makes.
19 han lægger sig rig, men for sidste ang, han slår Øjnene op, og er det ej mer;
He lies down rich, but he will not do so again. He opens his eyes, and he is not.
20 Rædsler når ham som Vande, ved Nat river Stormen ham bort;
Terrors overtake him like waters. A storm steals him away in the night.
21 løftet af Østenstorm farer han bort, den fejer ham væk fra hans Sted.
The east wind carries him away, and he departs. It sweeps him out of his place.
22 Skånselsløst skyder han på ham, i Hast må han fly fra hans Hånd;
For it hurls at him, and does not spare, as he flees away from his hand.
23 man klapper i Hænderne mod ham og piber ham bort fra hans Sted!
Men will clap their hands at him, and will hiss him out of his place.
