although my hands are free from violence
and my prayer is pure.

Earth, do not cover my blood;
may my cry for help find no resting place.

I wish that someone might arbitrate
between a man and God
just as a man pleads for his friend.

For only a few years will pass
before I go the way of no return.

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Even now my witness is in heaven,
and my advocate is in the heights!

My friends scoff at me
as I weep before God.

Then Job answered:

His anger tears at me, and He harasses me.
He gnashes His teeth at me.
My enemy pierces me with His eyes.

If you were in my place I could also talk like you.
I could string words together against you
and shake my head at you.

I have heard many things like these.
You are all miserable comforters.

I was at ease, but He shattered me;
He seized me by the scruff of the neck
and smashed me to pieces.
He set me up as His target;

I have sewn sackcloth over my skin;
I have buried my strength in the dust.

Instead, I would encourage you with my mouth,
and the consolation from my lips would bring relief.

His archers surround me.
He pierces my kidneys without mercy
and pours my bile on the ground.

Even if I speak, my suffering is not relieved,
and if I hold back, what have I lost?

You have shriveled me up—it has become a witness;
My frailty rises up against me and testifies to my face.

My face has grown red with weeping,
and darkness covers my eyes,

They open their mouths against me
and strike my cheeks with contempt;
they join themselves together against me.

Surely He has now exhausted me.
You have devastated my entire family.

He breaks through my defenses again and again;
He charges at me like a warrior.

God hands me over to unjust men;
He throws me into the hands of the wicked.

Is there no end to your empty words?
What provokes you that you continue testifying?