¹Job again took up his parable, and said,

¹Job vedblev at fremsætte sit Tankesprog:

²“As God lives, who has taken away my right, the Almighty, who has made my soul bitter.

²"Så sandt Gud lever, som satte min Ret til Side, den Almægtige, som gjorde mig mod i Hu:

³(For the length of my life is still in me, and the spirit of God is in my nostrils);

³Så længe jeg drager Ånde og har Guds Ånde i Næsen,

⁴surely my lips shall not speak unrighteousness, neither shall my tongue utter deceit.

⁴skal mine Læber ej tale Uret, min Tunge ej fare med Svig!

⁵Far be it from me that I should justify you. Until I die I will not put away my integrity from me.

⁵Langt være det fra mig at give jer Ret; til jeg udånder, opgiver jeg ikke min Uskyld.

⁶I hold fast to my righteousness, and will not let it go. My heart shall not reproach me so long as I live.

⁶Jeg hævder min Ret, jeg slipper den ikke, ingen af mine Dage piner mit Sind.

⁷“Let my enemy be as the wicked. Let him who rises up against me be as the unrighteous.

⁷Som den gudløse gå det min Fjende, min Modstander som den lovløse!

⁸Thi hvad er den vanhelliges Håb, når Gud bortskærer og kræver hans Sjæl?

⁹Hører mon Gud hans Skrig, når Angst kommer over ham?

¹⁰Will he delight himself in the Almighty, and call on God at all times?

¹⁰Mon han kan fryde sig over den Almægtige, føjer han ham, når han påkalder ham?

¹¹I will teach you about the hand of God. That which is with the Almighty will I not conceal.

¹¹Jeg vil lære jer om Guds Hånd, den Almægtiges Tanker dølger jeg ikke;

¹²Behold, all of you have seen it yourselves; why then have you become altogether vain?

¹²se, selv har I alle set det, hvi har I så tomme Tanker?

¹³“This is the portion of a wicked man with God, the heritage of oppressors, which they receive from the Almighty.

¹³Det er den gudløses Lod fra Gud, Arven, som Voldsmænd får fra den Almægtige:

¹⁴If his children are multiplied, it is for the sword. His offspring shall not be satisfied with bread.

¹⁴Vokser hans Sønner, er det for Sværdet, hans Afkom mættes ikke med Brød;

¹⁵Those who remain of him shall be buried in death. His widows shall make no lamentation.

¹⁵de øvrige bringer Pesten i Graven, deres Enker kan ej holde Klage over dem.

¹⁶Though he heap up silver as the dust, and prepare clothing as the clay;

¹⁶Opdynger han Sølv som Støv og samler sig Klæder som Ler

¹⁷he may prepare it, but the just shall put it on, and the innocent shall divide the silver.

¹⁷han samler, men den retfærdige klæder sig i dem, og Sølvet arver den skyldfri;

¹⁸He builds his house as the moth, as a booth which the watchman makes.

¹⁸han bygger sit Hus som en Edderkops, som Hytten, en Vogter gør sig;

¹⁹He lies down rich, but he shall not do so again. He opens his eyes, and he is not.

¹⁹han lægger sig rig, men for sidste ang, han slår Øjnene op, og er det ej mer;

²⁰Terrors overtake him like waters. A storm steals him away in the night.

²⁰Rædsler når ham som Vande, ved Nat river Stormen ham bort;

²¹The east wind carries him away, and he departs. It sweeps him out of his place.

²¹løftet af Østenstorm farer han bort, den fejer ham væk fra hans Sted.

²²For it hurls at him, and does not spare, as he flees away from his hand.

²²Skånselsløst skyder han på ham, i Hast må han fly fra hans Hånd;

²³Men shall clap their hands at him, and shall hiss him out of his place.

²³man klapper i Hænderne mod ham og piber ham bort fra hans Sted!