Job 16
1 Så tog Job til Orde og svarede:
Then Job answered and said,
2 "Nok har jeg hørt af sligt, besværlige Trøstere er I til Hobe!
I have heard many such things: miserable comforters are you all.
3 Får Mundsvejret aldrig Ende? Hvad ægged dig dog til at svare?
Shall vain words have an end? or what emboldens you that you answer?
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 you do: if your soul were in my soul’s stead, I could heap up words against you, and shake my head at you.
5 styrke jer med min Mund, ej spare på ynksomme Ord!
But I would strengthen you with my mouth, and the moving of my lips should assuage your grief.
6 Taler jeg, mildnes min Smerte ikke og om jeg tier, hvad Lindring får jeg?
Though I speak, my grief is not assuaged: and though I forbear, what am I eased?
7 Dog nu har han udtømt min Kraft, du bar ødelagt hele min Kreds;
But now he has made me weary: you have made desolate all my company.
8 at du greb mig, gælder som Vidnesbyrd mod mig, min Magerhed vidner imod mig.
And you have filled me with wrinkles, which is a witness against me: and my leanness rising up in me bears witness to my face.
9 Hans Vrede river og slider i mig, han skærer Tænder imod mig. Fjenderne hvæsser Blikket imod mig,
He tears me in his wrath, who hates me: he gnashes on me with his teeth; my enemy sharpens his eyes on me.
10 de opspiler Gabet imod mig, slår mig med Hån på Kind og flokkes til Hobe omkring mig;
They have gaped on me with their mouth; they have smitten me on the cheek reproachfully; they have gathered themselves together against me.
11 Gud gav mig hen i Niddingers Vold, i gudløses Hænder kasted han mig.
God has delivered me to the ungodly, and turned me over 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 ease, but he has broken me asunder: he has also taken me by my 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 archers compass me round about, he splits my reins asunder, and does not spare; he pours out my gall on the ground.
14 Revne på Revne slår han mig, stormer som Kriger imod mig.
He breaks me with breach on breach, he runs on me like a giant.
15 Over min Hud har jeg syet Sæk og boret mit Horn i Støvel;
I have sewed sackcloth on my skin, and defiled my horn in the dust.
16 mit Ansigt er rødt af Gråd, mine Øjenlåg hyllet i Mørke,
My face is foul 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!
Not for any injustice in my hands: also my prayer is pure.
18 Dølg ikke, Jord, mit Blod, mit Skrig komme ikke til Hvile!
O earth, cover not you my blood, and let my cry have no place.
19 Alt nu er mit Vidne i Himlen, min Talsmand er i det høje;
Also now, behold, my witness is in heaven, and my record is on high.
20 gid min Ven lod sig finde! Mit Øje vender sig med Tårer til Gud,
My friends scorn me: but my eye pours out tears to God.
21 at han skifter Ret mellem Manden og Gud, mellem Mennesket og hans Ven!
O that one might plead for a man with God, as a man pleads for his neighbor!
22 Thi talte er de kommende År, jeg skal ud på en Færd, jeg ej vender hjem fra.
When a few years are come, then I shall go the way from where I shall not return.
