Why died I not from the womb? Why did I not give up the ghost when my mother bare me?

Why did the knees receive me? Or why the breast, that I should suck?

Why is light given to a man whose way is hid, And whom God hath hedged in?

If I have sinned, what do I unto thee, O thou watcher of men? Why hast thou set me as a mark for thee, So that I am a burden to myself?

And why dost thou not pardon my transgression, and take away mine iniquity? For now shall I lie down in the dust; And thou wilt seek me diligently, but I shall not be.

I shall be condemned; Why then do I labor in vain?

Why doth thy heart carry thee away? And why do thine eyes flash,

Why do ye persecute me as God, And are not satisfied with my flesh?

As for me, is my complaint to man? And why should I not be impatient?

Why are times not laid up by the Almighty? And why do not they that know him see his days?

Behold, all ye yourselves have seen it; Why then are ye become altogether vain?

Why dost thou strive against him, For that he giveth not account of any of his matters?