Job 27
1 Job vedblev at fremsætte sit Tankesprog:
And Job adds to lift up his allegory and says:
2 "Så sandt Gud lever, som satte min Ret til Side, den Almægtige, som gjorde mig mod i Hu:
“God lives! He turned aside my judgment, And the Mighty—He made my soul bitter.
3 Så længe jeg drager Ånde og har Guds Ånde i Næsen,
For all the while my breath [is] in me, And the wind of God in my nostrils.
4 skal mine Læber ej tale Uret, min Tunge ej fare med Svig!
My lips do not speak perverseness, And my tongue does not utter deceit.
5 Langt være det fra mig at give jer Ret; til jeg udånder, opgiver jeg ikke min Uskyld.
Defilement to me—if I justify you, Until I expire I do not turn aside my integrity from me.
6 Jeg hævder min Ret, jeg slipper den ikke, ingen af mine Dage piner mit Sind.
On my righteousness I have laid hold, And I do not let it go, My heart does not reproach me while I live.
7 Som den gudløse gå det min Fjende, min Modstander som den lovløse!
My enemy is as the wicked, And my withstander as the perverse.
8 Thi hvad er den vanhelliges Håb, når Gud bortskærer og kræver hans Sjæl?
For what [is] the hope of the profane, When He cuts off? When God casts off his soul?
9 Hører mon Gud hans Skrig, når Angst kommer over ham?
[Does] God hear his cry, When distress comes on him?
10 Mon han kan fryde sig over den Almægtige, føjer han ham, når han påkalder ham?
Does he delight himself on the Mighty? Call God at all times?
11 Jeg vil lære jer om Guds Hånd, den Almægtiges Tanker dølger jeg ikke;
I show you by the hand of God, That which [is] with the Mighty I do not hide.
12 se, selv har I alle set det, hvi har I så tomme Tanker?
Behold, you—all of you—have seen, And why [is] this—you are altogether vain?
13 Det er den gudløses Lod fra Gud, Arven, som Voldsmænd får fra den Almægtige:
This [is] the portion of wicked man with God, And the inheritance of terrible ones They receive from the Mighty.
14 Vokser hans Sønner, er det for Sværdet, hans Afkom mættes ikke med Brød;
If his sons multiply—a sword [is] for them. And his offspring [are] not satisfied [with] bread.
15 de øvrige bringer Pesten i Graven, deres Enker kan ej holde Klage over dem.
His remnant are buried in death, And his widows do not weep.
16 Opdynger han Sølv som Støv og samler sig Klæder som Ler
If he heaps up silver as dust, And prepares clothing as clay,
17 han samler, men den retfærdige klæder sig i dem, og Sølvet arver den skyldfri;
He prepares—and the righteous puts [it] on, And the innocent apportions the silver.
18 han bygger sit Hus som en Edderkops, som Hytten, en Vogter gør sig;
He has built his house as a moth, And as a shelter a watchman has made.
19 han lægger sig rig, men for sidste ang, han slår Øjnene op, og er det ej mer;
He lies down rich, and he is not gathered, He has opened his eyes, and he is not.
20 Rædsler når ham som Vande, ved Nat river Stormen ham bort;
Terrors overtake him as waters, By night a whirlwind has stolen him away.
21 løftet af Østenstorm farer han bort, den fejer ham væk fra hans Sted.
An east wind takes him up, and he goes, And it frightens him from his place,
22 Skånselsløst skyder han på ham, i Hast må han fly fra hans Hånd;
And it casts at him, and does not spare, He diligently flees from its hand.
23 man klapper i Hænderne mod ham og piber ham bort fra hans Sted!
It claps its hands at him, And it hisses at him from his place.”
