So the accuser went forth from the presence of Yahweh, - and smote Job with a sore boil, from the sole of his foot, unto his crown.

For sorrow, cometh not forth out of the dust, - nor, out of the ground, sprouteth trouble.

Though, man, to trouble, were born, as, sparks, on high, do soar,

For, now, shalt thou forget, sorrow, Like waters passed away, shalt thou remember it.

He shall wrong - like a vine - his sour grapes, and shall cast off - as an olive-tree - his blossom.

Shall, GOD, reserve, for his children, his sorrow? Let him recompense him so that he may know it;