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

Can the paper-reed grow up, without a marsh? Or the rush grow up, without water?

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

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

How much less when one is detested and corrupt, a man who drinketh in - like water - perversity.

No water - to the weary, hast thou given to drink, and, from the hungry, thou hast withheld broad:

Drought and heat, steal away snow water, Hades, them who have sinned.

Verily my lips shall not speak perversity, nor shall, my tongue, utter deceit.

What man is like Job? He drinketh in scoffing like water;

For he draweth up drops of water, They trickle as rain through his mist;

Who hath removed his outer garment, through his double row of teeth, who would enter?