¹Så tog Sjuhiten Bildad til Orde og sagde:

¹And Bildad the Shuhite answereth and saith: —

²"Så gør dog en Ende på dine Ord, kom til Fornuft og lad os tale!

²When do ye set an end to words? Consider ye, and afterwards do we speak.

³Hvi skal vi regnes for Kvæg og stå som umælende i dine Øjne?

³Wherefore have we been reckoned as cattle? We have been defiled in your eyes!

⁴Du, som i Vrede sønderslider din Sjæl, skal for din Skyld Jorden blive øde og Klippen flyttes fra sit Sted?

⁴(He is tearing himself in his anger.) For thy sake is earth forsaken? And removed is a rock from its place?

⁵Nej, den gudløses Lys bliver slukt, hans Ildslue giver ej Lys;

⁵Also, the light of the wicked is extinguished. And there doth not shine a spark of his fire.

⁶Lyset i hans Telt går ud, og hans Lampe slukkes for ham;

⁶The light hath been dark in his tent, And his lamp over him is extinguished.

⁷hans kraftige Skridt bliver korte, han falder for eget Råd;

⁷Straitened are the steps of his strength, And cast him down doth his own counsel.

⁸thi hans Fod drives ind i Nettet, på Fletværk vandrer han frem,

⁸For he is sent into a net by his own feet, And on a snare he doth walk habitually.

⁹Fælden griber om Hælen, Garnet holder ham fast;

⁹Seize on the heel doth a gin, Prevail over him do the designing.

¹⁰Snaren er skjult i Jorden for ham og Saksen på hans Sti;

¹⁰Hidden in the earth is his cord, And his trap on the path.

¹¹Rædsler skræmmer ham alle Vegne og kyser ham Skridt for Skridt:

¹¹Round about terrified him have terrors, And they have scattered him — at his feet.

¹²Ulykken hungrer efter ham, Undergang lurer på hans Fald:

¹²Hungry is his sorrow, And calamity is ready at his side.

¹³Dødens førstefødte æder hans Lemmer, æder hans Legemes Lemmer;

¹³It consumeth the parts of his skin, Consume his parts doth death`s first-born.

¹⁴han rives bort fra sit Telt, sin Fortrøstning; den styrer hans Skridt til Rædslernes Konge;

¹⁴Drawn from his tent is his confidence, And it causeth him to step to the king of terrors.

¹⁵i hans Telt har Undergang hjemme, Svovl strøs ud på hans Bolig;

¹⁵It dwelleth in his tent — out of his provender, Scattered over his habitation is sulphur.

¹⁶nedentil tørrer hans Rødder, oventil visner hans Grene;

¹⁶From beneath his roots are dried up, And from above cut off is his crop.

¹⁷hans Minde svinder fra Jord, på Gaden nævnes ikke hans Navn;

¹⁷His memorial hath perished from the land, And he hath no name on the street.

¹⁸man støder ham ud fra Lys i Mørket og driver ham bort fra Jorderig;

¹⁸They thrust him from light unto darkness, And from the habitable earth cast him out.

¹⁹i sit Folk har han ikke Afkom og Æt, i hans Hjem er der ingen tilbage;

¹⁹He hath no continuator, Nor successor among his people, And none is remaining in his dwellings.

²⁰de i Vester stivner ved hans Skæbnedag, de i Øst bliver slagne af Rædsel.

²⁰At this day westerns have been astonished And easterns have taken fright.

²¹Ja, således går det den lovløses Bolig, dens Hjem, der ej kender Gud!

²¹Only these [are] tabernacles of the perverse, And this the place God hath not known.