¹Nu derimod ler de ad mig, Folk, der er yngre end jeg, hvis Fædre jeg fandt for ringe at sætte iblandt mine Hyrdehunde.

¹And now, laughed at me, Have the younger in days than I, Whose fathers I have loathed to set With the dogs of my flock.

²Og hvad skulde jeg med deres Hænders Kraft? Deres Ungdomskraft har de mistet,

²Also — the power of their hands, why [is it] to me? On them hath old age perished.

³tørrede hen af Trang og Sult. De afgnaver Ørk og Ødemark

³With want and with famine gloomy, Those fleeing to a dry place, Formerly a desolation and waste,

⁴og plukker Melde ved Krattet, Gyvelrødder er deres Brød.

⁴Those cropping mallows near a shrub, And broom-roots [is] their food.

⁵Fra Samfundet drives de bort, som ad Tyve råbes der efter dem.

⁵From the midst they are cast out, (They shout against them as a thief),

⁶De bor i Kløfter, fulde af Rædsler, i Jordens og Klippernes Huler.

⁶In a frightful place of valleys to dwell, Holes of earth and clefts.

⁷De brøler imellem Buske, i Tornekrat kommer de sammen,

⁷Among shrubs they do groan, Under nettles they are gathered together.

⁸en dum og navnløs Æt, de joges med Hug af Lande.

⁸Sons of folly — even sons without name, They have been smitten from the land.

⁹Men nu er jeg Hånsang for dem, jeg er dem et Samtaleemne;

⁹And now, their song I have been, And I am to them for a byword.

¹⁰de afskyr mig, holder sig fra mig, nægter sig ikke af spytte ad mig.

¹⁰They have abominated me, They have kept far from me, And from before me have not spared to spit.

¹¹Thi han løste min Buestreng, ydmyged mig, og foran mig kasted de Tøjlerne af.

¹¹Because His cord He loosed and afflicteth me, And the bridle from before me, They have cast away.

¹²Til højre rejser sig Ynglen, Fødderne slår de fra mig, bygger sig Ulykkesveje imod mig

¹²On the right hand doth a brood arise, My feet they have cast away, And they raise up against me, Their paths of calamity.

¹³min Sti har de opbrudt, de hjælper med til mit Fald, og ingen hindrer dem i det;

¹³They have broken down my path, By my calamity they profit, `He hath no helper.`

¹⁴de kommer som gennem et gabende Murbrud, vælter sig frem under Ruiner,

¹⁴As a wide breach they come, Under the desolation have rolled themselves.

¹⁵Rædsler har vendt sig imod mig; min Værdighed joges bort som af Storm, min Lykke svandt som en Sky.

¹⁵He hath turned against me terrors, It pursueth as the wind mine abundance, And as a thick cloud, Hath my safety passed away.

¹⁶Min Sjæl opløser sig i mig; Elendigheds Dage har ramt mig:

¹⁶And now, in me my soul poureth itself out, Seize me do days of affliction.

¹⁷Natten borer i mine Knogler, aldrig blunder de nagende Smerter.

¹⁷At night my bone hath been pierced in me, And mine eyelids do not lie down.

¹⁸Med vældig Kraft vanskabes mit Kød, det hænger om mig, som var det min Kjortel.

¹⁸By the abundance of power, Is my clothing changed, As the mouth of my coat it doth gird me.

¹⁹Han kasted mig ud i Dynd, jeg er blevet som Støv og Aske.

¹⁹Casting me into mire, And I am become like dust and ashes.

²⁰Jeg skriger til dig, du svarer mig ikke, du står der og ænser mig ikke;

²⁰I cry unto Thee, And Thou dost not answer me, I have stood, and Thou dost consider me.

²¹grum er du blevet imod mig, forfølger mig med din vældige Hånd.

²¹Thou art turned to be fierce to me, With the strength of Thy hand, Thou oppresest me.

²²Du løfter og vejrer mig hen i Stormen, og dens Brusen gennemryster mig;

²²Thou dost lift me up, On the wind Thou dost cause me to ride, And Thou meltest — Thou levellest me.

²³thi jeg ved, du fører mig hjem til Døden, til det Hus, hvor alt levende samles.

²³For I have known To death Thou dost bring me back, And [to] the house appointed for all living.

²⁴Dog, mon den druknende ej rækker Hånden ud og råber om Hjælp, når han går under?

²⁴Surely not against the heap Doth He send forth the hand, Though in its ruin they have safety.

²⁵Mon ikke jeg græder over den, som havde det hårdt, sørgede ikke min Sjæl for den fattiges Skyld?

²⁵Did not I weep for him whose day is hard? Grieved hath my soul for the needy.

²⁶Jeg biede på Lykke, men Ulykke kom, jeg håbed på Lys, men Mørke kom;

²⁶When good I expected, then cometh evil, And I wait for light, and darkness cometh.

²⁷ustandseligt koger det i mig, Elendigheds Dage traf mig;

²⁷My bowels have boiled, and have not ceased, Gone before me have days of affliction.

²⁸trøstesløs går jeg i Sorg, i Forsamlingen rejser jeg mig og råber;

²⁸Mourning I have gone without the sun, I have risen, in an assembly I cry.

²⁹Sjakalernes Broder blev jeg, Strudsenes Fælle.

²⁹A brother I have been to dragons, And a companion to daughters of the ostrich.

³⁰Min Hud er sort, falder af, mine Knogler brænder af Hede;

³⁰My skin hath been black upon me, And my bone hath burned from heat,

³¹min Citer er blevet til Sorg, min Fløjte til hulkende Gråd!

³¹And my harp doth become mourning, And my organ the sound of weeping.