1Mennesket, født af en Kvinde, hans Liv er stakket, han mættes af Uro;
1Man, born of woman! Of few days, and full of trouble!
2han spirer som Blomsten og visner, flyr som Skyggen, står ikke fast.
2As a flower he hath gone forth, and is cut off, And he fleeth as a shadow and standeth not.
3Og på ham vil du rette dit Øje, ham vil du stævne for Retten!
3Also — on this Thou hast opened Thine eyes, And dost bring me into judgment with Thee.
4Ja, kunde der komme en ren af en uren! Nej, end ikke een!
4Who giveth a clean thing out of an unclean? not one.
5Når hans Dages Tal er fastsat, hans Måneder talt hos dig, og du har sat ham en uoverskridelig Grænse,
5If determined are his days, The number of his months [are] with Thee, His limit Thou hast made, And he passeth not over;
6tag så dit Øje fra ham, lad ham i Fred, at han kan nyde sin Dag som en Daglejer!
6Look away from off him that he may cease, Till he enjoy as an hireling his day.
7Thi for et Træ er der Håb: Fældes det, skyder det atter, det fattes ej nye Skud;
7For there is of a tree hope, if it be cut down, That again it doth change, That its tender branch doth not cease.
8ældes end Roden i Jorden, dør end Stubben i Mulde:
8If its root becometh old in the earth, And its stem doth die in the dust,
9lugter det Vand, får det nye Skud, skyder Grene som nyplantet Træ;
9From the fragrance of water it doth flourish, And hath made a crop as a plant.
10men dør en Mand, er det ude med ham, udånder Mennesket, hvor er han da?
10And a man dieth, and becometh weak, And man expireth, and where [is] he?
11Som Vand løber ud af Søen og Floden svinder og tørres,
11Waters have gone away from a sea, And a river becometh waste and dry.
12så lægger Manden sig, rejser sig ikke, vågner ikke, før Himlen forgår, aldrig vækkes han af sin Søvn.
12And man hath lain down, and riseth not, Till the wearing out of the heavens they awake not, Nor are roused from their sleep.
13Tag dog og gem mig i Dødens Rige, skjul mig, indtil din Vrede er ovre, sæt mig en Frist og kom mig i Hu!
13O that in Sheol Thou wouldst conceal me, Hide me till the turning of Thine anger, Set for me a limit, and remember me.
14Om Manden dog døde for atter at leve! Da vented jeg rolig al Stridens Tid, indtil min Afløsning kom;
14If a man dieth — doth he revive? All days of my warfare I wait, till my change come.
15du skulde kalde - og jeg skulde svare længes imod dine Hænders Værk!
15Thou dost call, and I — I answer Thee; To the work of Thy hands Thou hast desire.
16Derimod tæller du nu mine Skridt, du tilgiver ikke min Synd,
16But now, my steps Thou numberest, Thou dost not watch over my sin.
17forseglet ligger min Brøde i Posen, og over min Skyld har du lukket til.
17Sealed up in a bag [is] my transgression, And Thou sewest up mine iniquity.
18Nej, ligesom Bjerget skrider og falder, som Klippen rokkes fra Grunden,
18And yet, a falling mountain wasteth away, And a rock is removed from its place.
19som Vandet udhuler Sten og Plaskregn bortskyller Jord, så har du udslukt Menneskets Håb.
19Stones have waters worn away, Their outpourings wash away the dust of earth, And the hope of man Thou hast destroyed.
20For evigt slår du ham ned, han går bort, skamskænder hans Ansigt og lader ham fare.
20Thou prevailest [over] him for ever, and he goeth, He is changing his countenance, And Thou sendest him away.
21Hans Sønner hædres, han ved det ikke, de synker i Ringhed, han mærker det ikke;
21Honoured are his sons, and he knoweth not; And they are little, and he attendeth not to them.
22ikkun hans eget Kød volder Smerte, ikkun hans egen Sjæl volder Sorg.
22Only — his flesh for him is pained, And his soul for him doth mourn.`