¹“But now those who are younger than I have me in derision, whose fathers I would have disdained to put with my sheep dogs.

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

²Of what use is the strength of their hands to me, men in whom ripe age has perished?

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

³They are gaunt from lack and famine. They gnaw the dry ground, in the gloom of waste and desolation.

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

⁴They pluck salt herbs by the bushes. The roots of the broom are their food.

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

⁵They are driven out from the midst of men. They cry after them as after a thief;

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

⁶So that they dwell in frightful valleys, and in holes of the earth and of the rocks.

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

⁷Among the bushes they bray; and under the nettles they are gathered together.

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

⁸They are children of fools, yes, children of base men. They were flogged out of the land.

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

⁹“Now I have become their song. Yes, I am a byword to them.

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

¹⁰They abhor me, they stand aloof from me, and don’t hesitate to spit in my face.

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

¹¹For he has untied his cord, and afflicted me; and they have thrown off restraint before me.

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

¹²On my right hand rise the rabble. They thrust aside my feet, They cast up against me their ways of destruction.

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

¹³They mar my path, They set forward my calamity, without anyone’s help.

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

¹⁴As through a wide breach they come, in the midst of the ruin they roll themselves in.

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

¹⁵Terrors have turned on me. They chase my honor as the wind. My welfare has passed away as a cloud.

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

¹⁶“Now my soul is poured out within me. Days of affliction have taken hold on me.

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

¹⁷In the night season my bones are pierced in me, and the pains that gnaw me take no rest.

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

¹⁸By great force is my garment disfigured. It binds me about as the collar of my coat.

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

¹⁹He has cast me into the mire. I have become like dust and ashes.

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

²⁰I cry to you, and you do not answer me. I stand up, and you gaze at me.

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

²¹You have turned to be cruel to me. With the might of your hand you persecute me.

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

²²You lift me up to the wind, and drive me with it. You dissolve me in the storm.

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

²³For I know that you will bring me to death, To the house appointed for all living.

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

²⁴“However doesn’t one stretch out a hand in his fall? Or in his calamity therefore cry for help?

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

²⁵Didn’t I weep for him who was in trouble? Wasn’t my soul grieved for the needy?

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

²⁶When I looked for good, then evil came; When I waited for light, there came darkness.

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

²⁷My heart is troubled, and doesn’t rest. Days of affliction have come on me.

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

²⁸I go mourning without the sun. I stand up in the assembly, and cry for help.

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

²⁹I am a brother to jackals, and a companion to ostriches.

²⁹Sjakalernes Broder blev jeg, Strudsenes Fælle.

³⁰My skin grows black and peels from me. My bones are burned with heat.

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

³¹Therefore my harp has turned to mourning, and my pipe into the voice of those who weep.

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