Job 3
1 After this Job opened his mouth, and cursed the day of his birth.
Derefter oplod Job sin Mund og forbandede sin Dag,
2 Job answered:
og Job tog til Orde og sagde:
3 “Let the day perish in which I was born, the night which said, ‘There is a boy conceived.’
Bort med den Dag, jeg fødtes, den Nat, der sagde: "Se, en Dreng!"
4 Let that day be darkness. Don’t let God from above seek for it, neither let the light shine on it.
Denne Dag vorde Mørke, Gud deroppe spørge ej om den, over den stråle ej Lyset frem!
5 Let darkness and the shadow of death claim it for their own. Let a cloud dwell on it. Let all that makes the day black terrify it.
Mulm og Mørke løse den ind, Tåge lægge sig over den, Formørkelser skræmme den!
6 As for that night, let thick darkness seize on it. Let it not rejoice among the days of the year. Let it not come into the number of the months.
Mørket tage den Nat, den høre ej hjemme blandt Årets Dage, den komme ikke i Måneders Tal!
7 Behold, let that night be barren. Let no joyful voice come therein.
Ja, denne Nat vorde gold, der lyde ej Jubel i den!
8 Let them curse it who curse the day, who are ready to rouse up leviathan.
De, der besværger Dage, forbande den, de, der har lært at hidse Livjatan";
9 Let the stars of its twilight be dark. Let it look for light, but have none, neither let it see the eyelids of the morning,
dens Morgenstjerner formørkes, den bie forgæves på Lys, den skue ej Morgenrødens Øjenlåg,
10 because it didn’t shut up the doors of my mother’s womb, nor did it hide trouble from my eyes.
fordi den ej lukked mig Moderlivets Døre og skjulte Kvide for mit Blik!
11 “Why didn’t I die from the womb? Why didn’t I give up the spirit when my mother bore me?
Hvi døde jeg ikke i Moders Liv eller udånded straks fra Moders Skød?
12 Why did the knees receive me? Or why the breast, that I should nurse?
Hvorfor var der Knæ til at tage imod mig, hvorfor var der Bryster at die?
13 For now I should have lain down and been quiet. I should have slept, then I would have been at rest,
Så havde jeg nu ligget og hvilet, så havde jeg slumret i Fred
14 with kings and counselors of the earth, who built up waste places for themselves;
blandt Konger og Jordens Styrere, der bygged sig Gravpaladser,
15 or with princes who had gold, who filled their houses with silver;
blandt Fyrster, rige på Guld, som fyldte deres Huse med Sølv.
16 or as a hidden untimely birth I had not been, as infants who never saw light.
Eller var jeg dog som et nedgravet Foster. som Børn, der ikke fik Lyset at se!
17 There the wicked cease from troubling. There the weary are at rest.
Der larmer de gudløse ikke mer, der hviler de trætte ud,
18 There the prisoners are at ease together. They don’t hear the voice of the taskmaster.
alle de fangne har Ro, de hører ej Fogedens Røst;
19 The small and the great are there. The servant is free from his master.
små og store er lige der og Trællen fri for sin Herre.
20 “Why is light given to him who is in misery, life to the bitter in soul,
Hvi giver Gud de lidende Lys, de bittert sørgende Liv,
21 who long for death, but it doesn’t come; and dig for it more than for hidden treasures,
dem, som bier forgæves på Døden, graver derefter som efter Skatte,
22 who rejoice exceedingly, and are glad, when they can find the grave?
som glæder sig til en Stenhøj, jubler, når de finder deres Grav
23 Why is light given to a man whose way is hidden, whom God has hedged in?
en Mand, hvis Vej er skjult, hvem Gud har stænget inde?
24 For my sighing comes before I eat. My groanings are poured out like water.
Thi Suk er blevet mit daglige Brød, mine Ve råb strømmer som Vand.
25 For the thing which I fear comes on me, that which I am afraid of comes to me.
Thi hvad jeg gruer for, rammer mig, hvad jeg bæver for, kommer over mig.
26 I am not at ease, neither am I quiet, neither do I have rest; but trouble comes.”
Knap har jeg Fred, og knap har jeg Ro, knap har jeg Hvile, så kommer Uro!
