Who doeth great things, beyond all search, - Wondrous things, till they cannot be recounted;

Who doth frustrate the schemes of the crafty, that their hands cannot achieve abiding success;

I also, cannot restrain my mouth, - I must speak, in the anguish of my spirit, I must find utterance, in the bitterness of my soul.

For, of yesterday, are, we, and cannot know, for, a shadow, are our days upon earth:

Though while still, in its freshness, it be not plucked off, yet, before any kind of grass, it doth wither:

If he choose to contend with him, he cannot answer him, one of a thousand:

Lo! He pulleth down, and it cannot be built, He closeth up over a man, and it cannot be opened:

Wherefore, thy face, shouldst thou hide? Or count me, as an enemy to thee?

If determined am his days, the number of his months, is with thee, Fixed times for him, thou hast appointed and he cannot go beyond.

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

In vain, he toiled, he shall not swallow, like wealth to be restored, in which he cannot exult!

For he hath oppressed - hath forsaken the poor, A house, hath he seized, which he cannot rebuild.

Dark clouds, are a veil to him, and he cannot see, or, the vault of the heavens, doth he walk?

On the north, where he worketh, but I get no vision, He hideth himself on the south that I cannot see him.

Pure gold cannot be given in its stead, neither can silver he weighed as the value thereof;

It cannot be put into the scales against the gold of Ophir, with costly onyx, or sapphire;

Coral or crystal, cannot be mentioned, Yea, a possession, is wisdom, above red coral;

The topaz of Ethiopia cannot compare with it, Against purest gold, can it not be weighed.

If the men of my household have not said, Oh for some of his flesh - we cannot get filled,

GOD thundereth with his voice, wonderfully, Doing great things, which we cannot know;

Let us know what we shall say to him, We cannot set in order, by reason of darkness.

Who can count the thin clouds, in wisdom? And, the bottles of the heavens, who can empty out;

Canst thou count the months they fulfil? Or knowest thou the time when they give birth?

One to another, they join, and, air, cannot enter between them;

Each to its fellow, they cleave, they grasp each other, and cannot be parted;

The dewlaps of his flesh, cleave together, hardened upon him, they cannot be moved;