Job 27
1 Job resumed speaking and he said,
Job vedblev at fremsætte sit Tankesprog:
2 “As surely as God lives, who has taken away my justice, the Almighty, who made my life bitter,
"Så sandt Gud lever, som satte min Ret til Side, den Almægtige, som gjorde mig mod i Hu:
3 while my life is yet in me, and the breath from God is in my nostrils, this is what I will do.
Så længe jeg drager Ånde og har Guds Ånde i Næsen,
4 My lips will not speak wickedness, neither will my tongue speak deceit;
skal mine Læber ej tale Uret, min Tunge ej fare med Svig!
5 I will never admit that you three are right; until I die I will never deny my integrity.
Langt være det fra mig at give jer Ret; til jeg udånder, opgiver jeg ikke min Uskyld.
6 I hold fast to my righteousness and will not let it go; my thoughts will not reproach me so long as I live.
Jeg hævder min Ret, jeg slipper den ikke, ingen af mine Dage piner mit Sind.
7 Let my enemy be like a wicked man; let him who rises up against me be like an unrighteous man.
Som den gudløse gå det min Fjende, min Modstander som den lovløse!
8 For what is the hope of a godless man when God cuts him off, when God takes away his life?
Thi hvad er den vanhelliges Håb, når Gud bortskærer og kræver hans Sjæl?
9 Will God hear his cry when trouble comes upon him?
Hører mon Gud hans Skrig, når Angst kommer over ham?
10 Will he delight himself in the Almighty and call upon God at all times?
Mon han kan fryde sig over den Almægtige, føjer han ham, når han påkalder ham?
11 I will teach you concerning the hand of God; I will not conceal the thoughts of the Almighty.
Jeg vil lære jer om Guds Hånd, den Almægtiges Tanker dølger jeg ikke;
12 See, all of you have seen this yourselves; why then have you spoken all this nonsense?
se, selv har I alle set det, hvi har I så tomme Tanker?
13 This is the portion of a wicked man with God, the heritage of the oppressor that he receives from the Almighty:
Det er den gudløses Lod fra Gud, Arven, som Voldsmænd får fra den Almægtige:
14 If his children multiply, it is for the sword; his offspring will never have enough food.
Vokser hans Sønner, er det for Sværdet, hans Afkom mættes ikke med Brød;
15 Those who survive him will be buried by plague, and their widows will make no lament for them.
de øvrige bringer Pesten i Graven, deres Enker kan ej holde Klage over dem.
16 Though the wicked man heaps up silver like the dust, and heaps up clothing like clay,
Opdynger han Sølv som Støv og samler sig Klæder som Ler
17 he may heap up clothing, but righteous people will put it on, and innocent people will divide up the silver among themselves.
han samler, men den retfærdige klæder sig i dem, og Sølvet arver den skyldfri;
18 He builds his house like a spider, like a hut that a guard makes.
han bygger sit Hus som en Edderkops, som Hytten, en Vogter gør sig;
19 He lies down in bed rich, but he will not keep doing so; he opens his eyes, and everything is gone.
han lægger sig rig, men for sidste ang, han slår Øjnene op, og er det ej mer;
20 Terrors overtake him like waters; a storm takes him away in the night.
Rædsler når ham som Vande, ved Nat river Stormen ham bort;
21 The east wind carries him away, and he leaves; it sweeps him out of his place.
løftet af Østenstorm farer han bort, den fejer ham væk fra hans Sted.
22 It throws itself at him and does not stop; he tries to flee out of its hand.
Skånselsløst skyder han på ham, i Hast må han fly fra hans Hånd;
23 It claps its hands at him in mockery; it hisses him out of his place.
man klapper i Hænderne mod ham og piber ham bort fra hans Sted!
