Doing great things till there is no searching, And wonderful, till there is no numbering.

Lo, He goeth over by me, and I see not, And He passeth on, and I attend not to it.

Lo, He snatches away, who bringeth it back? Who saith unto Him, 'What dost Thou?'

Whom, though I were righteous, I answer not, For my judgment I make supplication.

God doth not turn back His anger, Under Him bowed have proud helpers.

Because with a tempest He bruiseth me, And hath multiplied my wounds for nought.

If I be righteous, Mine mouth doth declare me wicked, Perfect I am! -- it declareth me perverse.

Though I had called and He answereth me, I do not believe that He giveth ear to my voice.

How much less do I -- I answer Him? Choose out my words with Him?

If of power, lo, the Strong One; And if of judgment -- who doth convene me?

Perfect I am! -- I know not my soul, I despise my life.

My days have been swifter than a runner, They have fled, they have not seen good,

He permitteth me not to refresh my spirit, But filleth me with bitter things.

Truly I have known that it is so, And what -- is man righteous with God?

And Job answereth and saith: --

Who is shaking earth from its place, And its pillars move themselves.

Earth hath been given Into the hand of the wicked one. The face of its judges he covereth, If not -- where, who is he?

Who is speaking to the sun, and it riseth not, And the stars He sealeth up.

Wise in heart and strong in power -- Who hath hardened toward Him and is at peace?

Who is removing mountains, And they have not known, Who hath overturned them in His anger.

It is the same thing, therefore I said, 'The perfect and the wicked He is consuming.'

If a scourge doth put to death suddenly, At the trial of the innocent He laugheth.

They have passed on with ships of reed, As an eagle darteth on food.

If he delight to strive with Him -- He doth not answer him one of a thousand.

If I have washed myself with snow-water, And purified with soap my hands,

I have been afraid of all my griefs, I have known that Thou dost not acquit me.

I -- I am become wicked; why is this? In vain I labour.

Though I say, 'I forget my talking, I forsake my corner, and I brighten up!'

Stretching out the heavens by Himself, And treading on the heights of the sea,

If there were between us an umpire, He doth place his hand on us both.

Making Osh, Kesil, and Kimah, And the inner chambers of the south.

But if a man like myself -- I answer him, We come together into judgment.

He doth turn aside from off me his rod, And His terror doth not make me afraid,

Then in corruption Thou dost dip me, And my garments have abominated me.

I speak, and do not fear Him, But I am not right with myself.