and it cometh to pass, when they have gone round the days of the banquet, that Job doth send and sanctify them, and hath risen early in the morning, and caused to ascend burnt-offerings -- the number of them all -- for Job said, 'Perhaps my sons have sinned, yet blessed God in their heart.' Thus doth Job all the days.

And Jehovah saith unto the Adversary, 'Hast thou set thy heart against My servant Job because there is none like him in the land, a man perfect and upright, fearing God, and turning aside from evil?'

and he saith, 'Naked came I forth from the womb of my mother, and naked I turn back thither: Jehovah hath given and Jehovah hath taken: let the name of Jehovah be blessed.'

And Jehovah saith unto the Adversary, 'Hast thou set thy heart unto My servant Job because there is none like him in the land, a man perfect and upright, fearing God and turning aside from evil? and still he is keeping hold on his integrity, and thou dost move Me against him to swallow him up for nought!'

Wherefore have knees been before me? And what are breasts, that I suck?

For now, I have lain down, and am quiet, I have slept -- then there is rest to me,

For before my food, my sighing cometh, And poured out as waters are my roarings.

For a fear I feared and it meeteth me, And what I was afraid of doth come to me.

And unto me a thing is secretly brought, And receive doth mine ear a little of it.

Fear hath met me, and trembling, And the multitude of my bones caused to fear.

And a spirit before my face doth pass, Stand up doth the hair of my flesh;

Yet I -- I inquire for God, And for God I give my word,

O that my provocation were thoroughly weighed, And my calamity in balances They would lift up together!

For now, than the sands of the sea it is heavier, Therefore my words have been rash.

For arrows of the Mighty are with me, Whose poison is drinking up my spirit. Terrors of God array themselves for me!

My soul is refusing to touch! They are as my sickening food.

O that my request may come, That God may grant my hope!

That God would please -- and bruise me, Loose His hand and cut me off!

And yet it is my comfort, (And I exult in pain -- He doth not spare,) That I have not hidden The sayings of the Holy One.

What is my power that I should hope? And what mine end That I should prolong my life?

Is my strength the strength of stones? Is my flesh brazen?

Is not my help with me, And substance driven from me?

My brethren have deceived as a brook, As a stream of brooks they pass away.

Is it because I said, Give to me? And, By your power bribe for me?

And, Deliver me from the hand of an adversary? And, From the hand of terrible ones ransom me?

Shew me, and I -- I keep silent, And what I have erred, let me understand.

And, now, please, look upon me, Even to your face do I lie?

Turn back, I pray you, let it not be perverseness, Yea, turn back again -- my righteousness is in it.

Is there in my tongue perverseness? Discerneth not my palate desirable things?

So I have been caused to inherit months of vanity, And nights of misery they numbered to me.

Clothed hath been my flesh with worms, And a clod of dust, My skin hath been shrivelled and is loathsome,

My days swifter than a weaving machine, And they are consumed without hope.

Remember Thou that my life is a breath, Mine eye turneth not back to see good.

The eye of my beholder beholdeth me not. Thine eyes are upon me -- and I am not.

Also I -- I withhold not my mouth -- I speak in the distress of my spirit, I talk in the bitterness of my soul.

A sea -monster am I, or a dragon, That thou settest over me a guard?

When I said, 'My bed doth comfort me,' He taketh away in my talking my couch.

And thou hast affrighted me with dreams, And from visions thou terrifiest me,

And my soul chooseth strangling, Death rather than my bones.

I have wasted away -- not to the age do I live. Cease from me, for my days are vanity.

How long dost Thou not look from me? Thou dost not desist till I swallow my spittle.

I have sinned, what do I to Thee, O watcher of man? Why hast Thou set me for a mark to Thee, And I am for a burden to myself -- and what?

Thou dost not take away my transgression, And cause to pass away mine iniquity, Because now, for dust I lie down: And Thou hast sought me -- and I am not!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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,

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

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

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

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

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

My soul hath been weary of my life, I leave off my talking to myself, I speak in the bitterness of my soul.

I say unto God, 'Do not condemn me, Let me know why Thou dost strive with me.

That Thou inquirest for mine iniquity, And for my sin seekest?

Thy hands have taken pains about me, And they make me together round about, And Thou swallowest me up!

Remember, I pray Thee, That as clay Thou hast made me, And unto dust Thou dost bring me back.

Dost Thou not as milk pour me out? And as cheese curdle me?

Skin and flesh Thou dost put on me, And with bones and sinews dost fence me.

Life and kindness Thou hast done with me. And Thy inspection hath preserved my spirit.

If I sinned, then Thou hast observed me, And from mine iniquity dost not acquit me,

If I have done wickedly -- woe to me, And righteously -- I lift not up my head, Full of shame -- then see my affliction,

And it riseth -- as a lion Thou huntest me. And Thou turnest back -- Thou shewest Thyself wonderful in me.

Thou renewest Thy witnesses against me, And dost multiply Thine anger with me, Changes and warfare are with me.

And why from the womb Hast Thou brought me forth? I expire, and the eye doth not see me.

Are not my days few? Cease then, and put from me, And I brighten up a little,

And thou sayest, 'Pure is my discourse, And clean I have been in Thine eyes.'

Hear, I pray you, my argument, And to the pleadings of my lips attend,

Keep silent from me, and I speak, And pass over me doth what?

Wherefore do I take my flesh in my teeth? And my soul put in my hand?

Lo, He doth slay me -- I wait not! Only, my ways unto His face I argue.

Also -- He is to me for salvation, For the profane cometh not before Him.

Hear ye diligently my word, And my declaration with your ears.

Who is he that doth strive with me? For now I keep silent and gasp.

Only two things, O God, do with me: Then from Thy face I am not hidden.

Thy hand put far off from me, And Thy terror let not terrify me.

And call Thou, and I -- I answer, Or -- I speak, and answer Thou me.

How many iniquities and sins have I? My transgression and my sin let me know.

Why dost Thou hide Thy face? And reckonest me for an enemy to Thee?

For Thou writest against me bitter things, And causest me to possess iniquities of my youth:

And puttest in the stocks my feet, And observest all my paths, On the roots of my feet Thou settest a print,

Also -- on this Thou hast opened Thine eyes, And dost bring me into judgment with Thee.

Look away from off him that he may cease, Till he enjoy as an hireling his day.

O that in Sheol Thou wouldest conceal me, Hide me till the turning of Thine anger, Set for me a limit, and remember me.

If a man dieth -- doth he revive? All days of my warfare I wait, till my change come.

But now, my steps Thou numberest, Thou dost not watch over my sin.

Sealed up in a bag is my transgression, And Thou sewest up mine iniquity.

I shew thee -- hearken to me -- And this I have seen and declare:

I also, like you, might speak, If your soul were in my soul's stead. I might join against you with words, And nod at you with my head.

I might harden you with my mouth, And the moving of my lips might be sparing.

If I speak, my pain is not restrained, And I cease -- what goeth from me?

Only, now, it hath wearied me; Thou hast desolated all my company,

And Thou dost loathe me, For a witness it hath been, And rise up against me doth my failure, In my face it testifieth.

His anger hath torn, and he hateth me, He hath gnashed at me with his teeth, My adversary sharpeneth his eyes for me.