But, I, know that, my redeemer, liveth, and, as the Last over my dust, will he arise;

Unto my skin and unto my flesh, have my bones cleaved, and I have escaped with the akin of my teeth.

Pity me! pity me! ye, my friends, for, the hand of GOD, hath stricken me!

Wherefore should ye persecute me as GOD? and, with my flesh, should not he satisfied?

That, with a stylus of iron and with lead, for all time - in the rock, they could be graven!

Whom, I myself, shall see, on my side, and, mine own eyes, shall have looked upon, and not those of a stranger. Exhausted are my deepest desires in my bosom!

Surely ye should say - Why should we persecute him? seeing, the root of the matter, is found in me.

And, though, after my skin is struck off, this followeth , yet, apart from my flesh, shall I see GOD:

Be ye afraid - on your part - of the face of the sword, because, wrath, bringeth the punishments of the sword, to the end ye may know the Almighty.

Oh, then, that my words, could be written, Oh that, in a record, they could be inscribed:

How long will ye grieve my soul? or crush me with words?

All the men of mine intimate circle abhor me, and, these whom I loved, have turned against me;

He hath ruined me on every side, and I am gone, and he hath taken away - like a tree - my hope;

My Brethren - from beside me, hath he moved far away, and, mine acquaintance, are wholly estranged from me;

And even if indeed I have erred, with myself lodgeth mine error.

Together, enter his troops and have cast up, against me, their mound, and have encamped all around my tent;

Failed me, have my near of kin, and, mine intimate acquaintances, have forgotten me;

My glory - from off me, hath he stripped, and hath removed the crown of my head;

If indeed, against me, ye must needs magnify yourselves, and plead, against me, my reproach.

Lo! I cry - out: Violence! but receive no answer, I cry aloud, but there is no vindication;

My breath, is strange to my wife, and I am loathsome to the sons of my own mother;

Know, then, that, God, hath overthrown me, and, within his net, enclosed me.

These ten times, have ye reviled me, Shameless ye wrong me.

My way, hath he walled up, that I cannot pass, and, upon my paths, hath he made darkness rest;

Ye guests of my house and my maidens, A stranger, have ye accounted me, An alien, have I become in their eyes;

Even young children, despise me, I rise up, and they speak against me;

To mine own servant, I called, and he would not answer, With mine own mouth, I kept entreating him;

Yea he hath kindled against me his anger, and accounted me towards him like unto his adversaries;