And so it was, when the days of the banquet came round, that Job sent and hallowed them, and rising early in the morning offered ascending-sacrifices according to the number of them all; for Job said, Peradventure my sons have sinned, and have cursed God in their hearts. Thus and thus, was Job wont to do all the days.

And Yahweh said unto the accuser, Hast thou applied thy heart unto my servant Job, that there is none like him in the earth, a man blameless and upright, one revering God and avoiding evil?

and said - Naked came I forth from the womb of my mother, and naked must I return thither, Yahweh, gave, and, Yahweh, hath taken away, - The name of Yahweh be blessed!

And Yahweh said unto the accuser, Hast thou applied thy heart unto my servant Job, that there is none like him in the earth, a man blameless and upright, one who revereth God, and avoideth evil; and still he is holding fast his integrity, although thou movedst me against him, to swallow him up without cause.

That day, be it darkness, - Let not God enquire after it from above, May there shine upon it no clear beam:

Let darkness and death-shade buy it back, May there settle down upon it a cloud, Let a day's dark eclipse cause it terror:

That night, darkness take it, - May it not rejoice among the days of the year, Into the number of months, let it not enter.

For what reason, were there prepared for me - knees? and why - breasts, that I might suck?

For, in the face of my food, my sighing, cometh in, and, poured out like the water, are my groans:

For, a dread, I dreaded, and it hath come upon me, and, that from which I shrank, hath overtaken me.

But, unto me, something was brought by stealth, - and mine ear caught a whispering of the same:

Dread, came upon me, and trembling, The multitude of my bones, it put in dread:

Then, a spirit, over my face, floated along, The hair of my flesh bristled-up:

For, he, woundeth that he may bind up, He smiteth through, that, his own hands, may heal.

Oh that, weighed, were my vexation, and, my engulfing ruin - into the balances, they would lift up all at once!

For, now, beyond the sand of the seas, would it be heavy, On this account, my words, have wandered.

For, the arrows of the Almighty, are in me, The heat whereof, my spirit is drinking up, The, terrors of GOD, array themselves against me.

My soul hath refused to touch, Those things, are like disease in my food.

Oh that my request would come! and, my hope, oh that GOD would grant!

That it would please GOD to crush me, That he would set free his hand, and cut me off!

So might it still be my comfort, And I might exult in the anguish he would not spare, - That I had not concealed the sayings of the Holy One.

What is my strength, that I should hope? Or what mine end, that I should prolong my desire?

Is my strength, the strength of stones? Or is, my flesh, of bronze?

Is there any help at all in me? Is not, abiding success, driven from me?

The despairing, from his friend, should have lovingkindness, or, the reverence of the Almighty, he may forsake.

Is it that I said, Make me a gift, or, out of your abundance, offer a bribe on my behalf;

And deliver me from the hand of the adversary? And, out of the hand of tyrants, ransom me?

Show me, and, I, will hold my peace, And, wherein I have erred, cause me to understand.

But, now, be pleased to turn to me, that it may be, to your faces, if I speak falsehood,

Reply, I pray you, let there be no perversity, Yea reply even yet, my vindication is in it!

Is there, in my tongue, perversity? Or can, my sense, not discern, engulfing ruin?

So, have I been made to inherit months of calamity, and, nights of weariness, have been appointed me.

My flesh is clothed with worms and a coating of dust, My skin, hath hardened, and then run afresh:

My days, are swifter than a weaver's shuttle, and they are spent, without hope.

Remember thou, that, a wind, is my life, not again shall mine eye see blessing:

Nor shall see me - the eye that used to behold me, Thine eyes, are upon me, and I am not.

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.

Am, I, a sea, or a sea-monster, - That thou shouldst set over me a watch?

When I say, My bed shall comfort me, my couch shall help to carry my complaint,

Then thou scarest me with dreams, and, by visions, dost thou terrify me:

So that my soul chooseth strangling, Death, rather than these my bones!

I am wasted away, Not, to times age-abiding, can I live, Let me alone, for, a breath, are my days.

How long wilt thou not look away from me? Wilt thou not let me alone, till I can swallow my spittle?

I have sinned, What can I do for thee, thou watcher of men? Wherefore hast thou set me as thine object of attack, or have I become, unto thee, a burden?

And why wilt thou not remove my transgression, and take away mine iniquity? For, now, in the dust, should I lie down, and thou shouldst seek me diligently, and I should not be.

Lo! he cometh upon me, yet can I not see him, Yea he passeth on, yet can I not discern him.

How much less that, I, should answer him, should choose my words with him?

Though I had called, and he had answered me, I could not believe, that he would lend an ear to my voice.

For, with a tempest, would he fall upon me, and would multiply my wounds without need;

He would not suffer me to recover my breath, for he would surfeit me with bitter things.

If I should justify myself, mine own mouth, would condemn me, - I blameless? then had it shewn me perverse.

I blameless? I should not know my own soul, I should despise my own life!

My days, therefore, are swifter than a runner, They have fled, they have seen no good.

If I say, I will forget my complaint, I will lay aside my sad countenance, and brighten up,

I am afraid of all my pains, I know, that thou wilt not pronounce me innocent.

Though I bathe myself in snow water, and cleanse, in cleanness itself, my hands,

Then, in a ditch, wouldst thou plunge me, and mine own clothes should abhor me:

Let him take from off me his rod, and, his terror, let it not startle me:

My soul doth loathe my life, - I let loose my complaint, I speak, in the bitterness of my soul.

I say unto GOD, Do not hold me guilty, Let me know, on what account thou contendest with me!

That thou shouldst seek for mine iniquity, and, for my sin, shouldst make search:

Thine own hands, shaped me, and made me, all in unison round about, and yet thou hast confounded me.

Remember, I pray thee, that, as clay, thou didst make me, and, unto dust, thou wilt cause me to return.

Didst thou not, like milk, pour me forth? and, as cheese, curdle me?

With skin and flesh, clothe me? and, with bones and sinews, interweave me?

Life and lovingkindness, thou didst bestow upon me, - and, thy watchful care, preserved my breath.

If I have sinned, then couldst thou watch me, and, from mine iniquity, thou wouldst not acquit me:

If I have been lawless, alas for me! Or, if I am righteous, I will not lift up my head, Surfeited with shame, look thou then on my humiliation.

When it is lifted up, like a howling lion, thou dost hunt me, Then again thou dost shew thyself marvellous against me.

Thou renewest thy witnesses before me, and dost increase thy vexation with me, Relays - yea an army, is with me.

Wherefore then, from the womb, didst thou bring me forth? I might have breathed my last, and, no eye, have seen me.

Are not my days, few? - then forbear, and set me aside, that I may brighten up for a little;

Since thou hast said, Right is my doctrine, and pure am I in his eyes.

But indeed, I, unto the Almighty, would speak, and, to direct my argument unto GOD, would I be well pleased.

Hear, I pray you, the argument of my mouth, and, to the pleadings of my lips, give heed: -

Quietly let me alone, that, I, may speak out, then let come on me, what may.

In any case, I will take up my flesh in my teeth, and, my life, will I put in my hand:

Lo! he may slay me, yet , for him, will I wait, - Nevertheless, my ways - unto his face, will I show to be right:

Even he, will be on my side - unto salvation, For, not before his face, shall any impious person come.

Hear ye patiently my speech, and be my declaration in your ears.

Who is it that shall contend with me? For, now, if I should hold my peace, why! I should breathe my last!

Only, two things, do thou not with me, then, from thy face, will I not hide me: -

Thy hand - from off me, take thou far away, and, thy terror, let it not startle me!

Then call thou, and, I, will answer, Or I will speak, and reply thou unto me.

How many are mine iniquities and sins? My transgression and my sin, let me know!

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

For thou writest, against me, bitter things, and dost make me inherit the iniquities of my youth;

And thou dost put - in the stocks - my feet, and observest all my paths, Against the roots of my feet, thou dost cut out a bound;

Look sway from him, that he may rest, Till he shall pay off, as a hireling, his day.

Through the scent of water, it may break forth, and produce branches like a sapling,

Waters, have failed from, the sea, and, a river, may waste and dry up;

Oh that, in hades, thou wouldst hide me! that thou wouldst keep me secret, until the turn of thine anger, that thou wouldst set for me a fixed time, and remember me:

If a man die, can he live again? All the days of my warfare, would I wait, until my relief should come: -

For, now, my steps, thou countest, Thou wilt not pass over my sin:

Sealed up in a bag, is my transgression, and thou hast glued over mine iniquity.

I will tell thee - hear me, Since this I have seen, I must needs declare it.

I also, like you, could speak, - If your soul were in the place of my soul, I could string together words against you, and could therewith shake over you my head.

I could make you determined, by my mouth, and then my lip-solace should restrain you.

Though I do speak, unassuaged is my stinging pain, - And, if I forbear, of what am I relieved?

But, now, hath he wearied me, thou hast destroyed all my family;