If he heap up as dust silver, And as clay prepare clothing,

He hath built as a moth his house, And as a booth a watchman hath made.

Rich he lieth down, and he is not gathered, His eyes he hath opened, and he is not.

Overtake him as waters do terrors, By night stolen him away hath a whirlwind.

Surely there is for silver a source, And a place for the gold they refine;

Iron from the dust is taken, And from the firm stone brass.

An end hath he set to darkness, And to all perfection he is searching, A stone of darkness and death-shade.

The earth! from it cometh forth bread, And its under-part is turned like fire.

And the wisdom -- whence is it found? And where is this, the place of understanding?

Man hath not known its arrangement, Nor is it found in the land of the living.

The deep hath said, 'It is not in me,' And the sea hath said, 'It is not with me.'

Gold is not given for it, Nor is silver weighed -- its price.

It is not valued with pure gold of Ophir, With precious onyx and sapphire,

Not equal it do gold and crystal, Nor is its exchange a vessel of fine gold.

Corals and pearl are not remembered, The acquisition of wisdom is above rubies.

Not equal it doth the topaz of Cush, With pure gold it is not valued.

And the wisdom -- whence doth it come? And where is this, the place of understanding?

And He saith to man: -- 'Lo, fear of the Lord, that is wisdom, And to turn from evil is understanding.'

Who doth make me as in months past, As in the days of God's preserving me?

As I have been in days of my maturity, And the counsel of God upon my tent.

When yet the Mighty One is with me. Round about me -- my young ones,

When washing my goings with butter, And the firm rock is with me rivulets of oil.

For I deliver the afflicted who is crying, And the fatherless who hath no helper.

Righteousness I have put on, and it clotheth me, As a robe and a diadem my justice.

And I say, 'With my nest I expire, And as the sand I multiply days.'

My root is open unto the waters, And dew doth lodge on my branch.

My honour is fresh with me, And my bow in my hand is renewed.

And they wait as for rain for me, And their mouth they have opened wide As for the latter rain.

I choose their way, and sit head, And I dwell as a king in a troop, When mourners he doth comfort.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And what is the portion of God from above? And the inheritance of the Mighty from the heights?

Is not calamity to the perverse? And strangeness to workers of iniquity?

For it is a wicked thing, and a judicial iniquity;

For a fire it is, to destruction it consumeth, And among all mine increase doth take root,

Did not He that made me in the womb make him? Yea, prepare us in the womb doth One.

(But from my youth He grew up with me as with a father, And from the belly of my mother I am led.)

If I see any perishing without clothing, And there is no covering to the needy,

For a dread unto me is calamity from God, And because of His excellency I am not able.

If I rejoice because great is my wealth, And because abundance hath my hand found,

And my heart is enticed in secret, And my hand doth kiss my mouth,

It also is a judicial iniquity, For I had lied to God above.

If I have covered as Adam my transgressions, To hide in my bosom mine iniquity,

The number of my steps I tell Him, As a leader I approach Him.

And these three men cease from answering Job, for he is righteous in his own eyes,

And Elihu seeth that there is no answer in the mouth of the three men, and his anger burneth.

Surely a spirit is in man, And the breath of the Mighty One Doth cause them to understand.

The multitude are not wise, Nor do the aged understand judgment.

And unto you I attend, And lo, there is no reasoner for Job, Or answerer of his sayings among you.

Lo, my breast is as wine not opened, Like new bottles it is broken up.

I speak, and there is refreshment to me, I open my lips and answer.

Lo, my terror doth not frighten thee, And my burden on thee is not heavy.

Lo, in this thou hast not been righteous, I answer thee, that greater is God than man.

And he hath been reproved With pain on his bed, And the strife of his bones is enduring.

His flesh is consumed from being seen, And high are his bones, they were not seen!

If there is by him a messenger, An interpreter -- one of a thousand, To declare for man his uprightness:

Fresher is his flesh than a child's, He returneth to the days of his youth.

Hear, O wise men, my words, And, O knowing ones, give ear to me.

Judgment let us choose for ourselves, Let us know among ourselves what is good.

Against my right do I lie? Mortal is mine arrow -- without transgression.'

Who is a man like Job? He drinketh scoffing like water,

And he hath travelled for company With workers of iniquity, So as to go with men of wickedness.

And if there is understanding, hear this, Give ear to the voice of my words.

There is no darkness nor death-shade, For workers of iniquity to be hidden there;

As wicked He hath stricken them, In the place of beholders.

And He giveth rest, and who maketh wrong? And hideth the face, and who beholdeth it? And in reference to a nation and to a man, It is the same.

Let men of heart say to me, And a wise man is hearkening to me.

For he doth add to his sin, Transgression among us he vomiteth, And multiplieth his sayings to God.

This hast thou reckoned for judgment: Thou hast said -- 'My righteousness is more than God's?'

For a man like thyself is thy wickedness, And for a son of man thy righteousness.

And none said, 'Where is God my maker? Giving songs in the night,

Teaching us more than the beasts of the earth, Yea, than the fowl of the heavens He maketh us wiser.'

Yea, though thou sayest thou dost not behold Him, Judgment is before Him, and stay for Him.

And, now, because there is not, He hath appointed His anger, And He hath not known in great extremity.

For, truly, my words are not false, The perfect in knowledge is with thee.

Lo, God is mighty, and despiseth not, Mighty in power and heart.

Lo, God doth sit on high by His power, Who is like Him -- a teacher?

Lo, God is high, And we know not the number of His years, Yea, there is no searching.

Under the whole heavens He directeth it, And its light is over the skirts of the earth.

After it roar doth a voice -- He thundereth with the voice of His excellency, And He doth not hold them back, When His voice is heard.

From the breath of God is frost given, And the breadth of waters is straitened,

And it is turning itself round by His counsels, For their doing all He commandeth them, On the face of the habitable earth.

Thou hast made an expanse with Him For the clouds -- strong as a hard mirror!

Let us know what we say to Him, We set not in array because of darkness.

Is it declared to Him that I speak? If a man hath spoken, surely he is swallowed up.

And now, they have not seen the light, Bright it is in the clouds, And the wind hath passed by and cleanseth them.

From the golden north it cometh, Beside God is fearful honour.

Therefore do men fear Him, He seeth not any of the wise of heart.

Who is this -- darkening counsel, By words without knowledge?

Gird, I pray thee, as a man, thy loins, And I ask thee, and cause thou Me to know.

And say, 'Hitherto come thou, and add not, And a command is placed On the pride of thy billows.'

It turneth itself as clay of a seal And they station themselves as clothed.

And withheld from the wicked is their light, And the arm lifted up is broken.

Where is this -- the way light dwelleth? And darkness, where is this -- its place?