The stumbling one do thy words raise up, And bowing knees thou dost strengthen.

An old lion is perishing without prey, And the whelps of the lioness do separate.

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

From morning to evening are beaten down, Without any regarding, for ever they perish.

Hath not their excellency been removed with them? They die, and not in wisdom!

Pray, call, is there any to answer thee? And unto which of the holy ones dost thou turn?

For provocation slayeth the perverse, And envy putteth to death the simple,

For man to misery is born, And the sparks go high to fly.

To set the low on a high place, And the mourners have been high in safety.

Making void thoughts of the subtile, And their hands do not execute wisdom.

By day they meet darkness, And as night -- they grope at noon.

And there is hope to the poor, And perverseness hath shut her mouth.

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

To a despiser of his friends is shame, And the fear of the Mighty he forsaketh.

Turn aside do the paths of their way, They ascend into emptiness, and are lost.

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

For reproof -- do you reckon words? And for wind -- sayings of the desperate.

Anger on the fatherless ye cause to fall, And are strange to your friend.

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

Is there not a warfare to man on earth? And as the days of an hireling his days?

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

If I lay down then I said, 'When do I rise!' And evening hath been measured, And I have been full of tossings till dawn.

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

Consumed hath been a cloud, and it goeth, So he who is going down to Sheol cometh not up.

He turneth not again to his house, Nor doth his place discern him again.

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

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!

For, ask I pray thee of a former generation, And prepare to a search of their fathers,

Do they not shew thee -- speak to thee, And from their heart bring forth words?

Those hating thee do put on shame, And the tent of the wicked is not!

If he delight to strive with Him -- He doth not answer him one of a thousand.

Who is speaking to the sun, and it riseth not, And the stars He sealeth up.

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?

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

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

If a scourge doth put to death suddenly, At the trial of the innocent He laugheth.

I speak, and do not fear Him, But I am not right with myself.

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.

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

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

And declare to thee secrets of wisdom, For counsel hath foldings. And know thou that God forgetteth for thee, Some of thine iniquity.

Truly -- ye are the people, And with you doth wisdom die.

A laughter to his friend I am: 'He calleth to God, and He answereth him,' A laughter is the perfect righteous one.

And yet, ask, I pray thee, One of the beasts, and it doth shew thee, And a fowl of the heavens, And it doth declare to thee.

Or talk to the earth, and it sheweth thee, And fishes of the sea recount to thee:

With Him are wisdom and might, To him are counsel and understanding.

Causing counsellors to go away a spoil, And judges He maketh foolish.

Causing ministers to go away a spoil And strong ones He overthroweth.

Removing deep things out of darkness, And He bringeth out to light death-shade.

Turning aside the heart Of the heads of the people of the land, And he causeth them to wander In vacancy -- no way!

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

Lo, all -- hath mine eye seen, Heard hath mine ear, and it attendeth to it.

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

Yet I for the Mighty One do speak, And to argue for God I delight.

O that ye would keep perfectly silent, And it would be to you for wisdom.

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

For God do ye speak perverseness? And for Him do ye speak deceit?

His face do ye accept, if for God ye strive?

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

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.

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:

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

If its root becometh old in the earth, And its stem doth die in the dust,

Thou dost call, and I -- I answer Thee; To the work of Thy hands Thou hast desire.

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?

Too few for thee are the comforts of God? And a gentle word is with thee,

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

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

A fearful voice is in his ears, In peace doth a destroyer come to him.

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

He is wandering for bread -- 'Where is it?' He hath known that ready at his hand Is a day of darkness.

Terrify him do adversity and distress, They prevail over him As a king ready for a boaster.

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

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

To conceive misery, and to bear iniquity, Even their heart doth prepare deceit.

Is there an end to words of wind? Or what doth embolden thee that thou answerest?

God shutteth me up unto the perverse, And to the hands of the wicked turneth me over.

At ease I have been, and he breaketh me, And he hath laid hold on my neck, And he breaketh me in pieces, And he raiseth me to him for a mark.

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

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.

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

To corruption I have called: -- 'Thou art my father.' 'My mother' and 'my sister' -- to the worm.

To the parts of Sheol ye go down, If together on the dust we may rest.

When do ye set an end to words? Consider ye, and afterwards do we speak.

Seize on the heel doth a gin, Prevail over him do the designing.

Drawn from his tent is his confidence, And it causeth him to step to the king of terrors.

At this day westerns have been astonished And easterns have taken fright.

Till when do ye afflict my soul, And bruise me with words?

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

And He kindleth against me His anger, And reckoneth me to Him as His adversaries.

Come in do His troops together, And they raise up against me their way, And encamp round about my tent.

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

My spirit is strange to my wife, And my favours to the sons of my mother's womb.