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

For Thou knowest that I am not wicked, And there is no deliverer from Thy hand.

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

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

As I had not been, I am, From the belly to the grave I am brought,

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

Before I go, and return not, Unto a land of darkness and death-shade,

Is a multitude of words not answered? And is a man of lips justified?

For he hath known men of vanity, And He seeth iniquity, And one doth not consider it!

If iniquity is in thy hand, put it far off, And let not perverseness dwell in thy tents.

For then thou liftest up thy face from blemish, And thou hast been firm, and fearest not.

I also have a heart like you, I am not fallen more than you, And with whom is there not like these?

'Who hath not known in all these, That the hand of Jehovah hath done this?

Doth not the ear try words? And the palate taste food for itself?

Lo, He breaketh down, and it is not built up, He shutteth against a man, And it is not opened.

They feel darkness, and not light, He causeth them to wander as a drunkard.

According to your knowledge I have known -- also I. I am not fallen more than you.

Doth not His excellency terrify you? And His dread fall upon you?

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.

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.

As a flower he hath gone forth, and is cut off, And he fleeth as a shadow and standeth not.

Who giveth a clean thing out of an unclean? not one.

If determined are his days, The number of his months are with Thee, His limit Thou hast made, And he passeth not over;

For there is of a tree hope, if it be cut down, That again it doth change, That its tender branch doth not cease.

And man hath lain down, and riseth not, Till the wearing out of the heavens they awake not, Nor are roused from their sleep.

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

Honoured are his sons, and he knoweth not; And they are little, and he attendeth not to them.

To reason with a word not useful? And speeches -- no profit in them?

Thy mouth declareth thee wicked, and not I, And thy lips testify against thee.

What hast thou known, and we know not? Understandest thou -- and it is not with us?

Lo, in His holy ones He putteth no credence, And the heavens have not been pure in His eyes.

Which the wise declare -- And have not hid -- from their fathers.

To them alone was the land given, And a stranger passed not over into their midst:

He believeth not to return from darkness, And watched is he for the sword.

And he inhabiteth cities cut off, houses not dwelt in, That have been ready to become heaps.

He is not rich, nor doth his wealth rise, Nor doth he stretch out on earth their continuance.

He turneth not aside from darkness, His tender branch doth a flame dry up, And he turneth aside at the breath of His mouth!

Let him not put credence in vanity, He hath been deceived, For vanity is his recompence.

Not in his day is it completed, And his bending branch is not green.

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.

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

Go round against me do his archers. He splitteth my reins, and spareth not, He poureth out to the earth my gall.

Not for violence in my hands, And my prayer is pure.

O earth, do not thou cover my blood! And let there not be a place for my cry.

When a few years do come, Then a path I return not do I go.

If not -- mockeries are with me. And in their provocations mine eye lodgeth.

For their heart Thou hast hidden From understanding, Therefore Thou dost not exalt them.

Return, and come in, I pray you, And I find not among you a wise man.

Night for day they appoint, Light is near because of darkness.

Also, the light of the wicked is extinguished. And there doth not shine a spark of his fire.

For he is sent into a net by his own feet, And on a snare he doth walk habitually.

Only these are tabernacles of the perverse, And this the place God hath not known.

These ten times ye put me to shame, ye blush not. Ye make yourselves strange to me --

Know now, that God turned me upside down, And His net against me hath set round,

Lo, I cry out -- violence, and am not answered, I cry aloud, and there is no judgment.

My way He hedged up, and I pass not over, And on my paths darkness He placeth.

To my servant I have called, And he doth not answer, With my mouth I make supplication to him.

Why do you pursue me as God? And with my flesh are not satisfied?

Whom I -- I see on my side, And mine eyes have beheld, and not a stranger, Consumed have been my reins in my bosom.

As a dream he fleeth, and they find him not, And he is driven away as a vision of the night,

The eye hath not seen him, and addeth not. And not again doth his place behold him.

Hath pity on it, and doth not forsake it, And keep it back in the midst of his palate,

He looketh not on rivulets, Flowing of brooks of honey and butter.

He is giving back what he laboured for, And doth not consume it; As a bulwark is his exchange, and he exults not.

For he oppressed -- he forsook the poor, A house he hath taken violently away, And he doth not build it.

For he hath not known ease in his belly. With his desirable thing he delivereth not himself.

There is not a remnant to his food, Therefore his good doth not stay.

All darkness is hid for his treasures, Consume him doth a fire not blown, Broken is the remnant in his tent.

I -- to man is my complaint? and if so, wherefore May not my temper become short?

His bullock hath eaten corn, and doth not loath. His cow bringeth forth safely, And doth not miscarry.

And they say to God, 'Turn aside from us, And the knowledge of Thy ways We have not desired.

Lo, not in their hand is their good, (The counsel of the wicked Hath been far from me.)

And this one dieth with a bitter soul, And have not eaten with gladness.

Have ye not asked those passing by the way? And their signs do ye not know?

Is not thy wickedness abundant? And there is no end to thine iniquities.

Thou causest not the weary to drink water, And from the hungry thou withholdest bread.

Or darkness -- thou dost not see, And abundance of waters doth cover thee.

Is not God high in heaven? And see the summit of the stars, That they are high.

Thick clouds are a secret place to Him, And He doth not see;' And the circle of the heavens He walketh habitually,

'Surely our substance hath not been cut off, And their excellency hath fire consumed.'

He delivereth the not innocent, Yea, he hath been delivered By the cleanness of thy hands.

Lo, forward I go -- and He is not, And backward -- and I perceive him not.

To the left in His working -- and I see not, He is covered on the right, and I behold not.

On His step hath my foot laid hold, His way I have kept, and turn not aside,

The command of His lips, and I depart not. Above my allotted portion I have laid up The sayings of His mouth.

For I have not been cut off before darkness, And before me He covered thick darkness.

Wherefore from the Mighty One Times have not been hidden, And those knowing Him have not seen His days.

Because of enmity men do groan, And the soul of pierced ones doth cry, And God doth not give praise.

They have been among rebellious ones of light, They have not discerned His ways, Nor abode in His paths.

At the light doth the murderer rise, He doth slay the poor and needy, And in the night he is as a thief.

He hath dug in the darkness -- houses; By day they shut themselves up, They have not known light.

Light he is on the face of the waters, Vilified is their portion in the earth, He turneth not the way of vineyards.

Treating evil the barren who beareth not, And to the widow he doth no good,

High they were for a little, and they are not, And they have been brought low. As all others they are shut up, And as the head of an ear of corn cut off.

And if not now, who doth prove me a liar, And doth make of nothing my word?

Is their any number to His troops? And on whom ariseth not His light?