though no violence is in my hand, and my prayer is pure.

Oh earth, do not cover my blood, and let not my cry have a place.

Oh that one might plead for a man with God, as a man pleads for his neighbor!

For the years that are few will come, and I shall go the way from where I shall not return.

Also now, behold, my Witness is in Heaven, and He who testifies of me is on high.

My friends scorn me; my eye pours out tears to God.

And Job answered and said,

His anger has torn and hated me; He gnashes on me with His teeth; my enemy sharpens his eyes at me;

I also could speak as you do; if your soul were in my soul's place. I could heap up words against you, and shake my head at you.

I have heard many such things. You are all miserable comforters.

I was at ease, but He has broken me in pieces; yea, He has also taken me by my neck and shaken me to pieces and set me up for His mark.

I have sewed sackcloth on my skin and thrust my horn in the dust.

I might make you strong with my mouth, and the moving of my lips would spare you.

His archers hem me in; He splits my inward parts, and does not spare; He pours out my gall on the ground.

Though I speak, my pain is not held back, and though I forbear, in what way am I eased?

And You have plucked me, for it is a witness, and my failure rises up against me, and it answers to my face.

My face is reddened from weeping, and on my eyelids is the shadow of death;

They have gaped on me with their mouth; and have scornfully beaten me on the cheek; they gather themselves against me.

But now He has made me weary; You have made all my company desolate.

He breaks me with break on break; He runs on me like a giant.

God has delivered me to the perverse; and turned me over into the hands of the wicked.

Shall words of wind have an end? Or what provokes you that you should answer?