Job 17
1 My spirit is consumed, my days are extinct, The grave is [ready] for me.
Mi spirit schal be maad feble; my daies schulen be maad schort, and oneli the sepulcre is left to me.
2 Surely there are mockers with me, And mine eye dwelleth upon their provocation.
Y have not synned, and myn iye dwellith in bittirnessis.
3 Give now a pledge, be surety for me with thyself; Who is there that will strike hands with me?
Lord, delyuere thou me, and sette thou me bisidis thee; and the hond of ech fiyte ayens me.
4 For thou hast hid their heart from understanding: Therefore shalt thou not exalt [them].
Thou hast maad the herte of hem fer fro doctryn, `ethir knowyng of treuthe; therfor thei schulen not be enhaunsid.
5 He that denounceth his friends for a prey, Even the eyes of his children shall fail.
He bihetith prey to felowis, and the iyen of hise sones schulen faile.
6 But he hath made me a byword of the people; And they spit in my face.
He hath set as in to a prouerbe of the comyn puple, and his saumple bifor hem.
7 Mine eye also is dim by reason of sorrow, And all my members are as a shadow.
Myn `iye dasewide at indignacioun; and my membris ben dryuun as in to nouyt.
8 Upright men shall be astonished at this, And the innocent shall stir up himself against the godless.
Iust men schulen wondre on this thing; and an innocent schal be reisid ayens an ypocrite.
9 Yet shall the righteous hold on his way, And he that hath clean hands shall wax stronger and stronger.
And a iust man schal holde his weie, and he schal adde strengthe to clene hondis.
10 But as for you all, come on now again; And I shall not find a wise man among you.
Therfor alle `ye be conuertid, and come ye; and Y schal not fynde in you ony wiys man.
11 My days are past, my purposes are broken off, Even the thoughts of my heart.
My daies ben passid; my thouytis ben scaterid, turmentynge myn herte.
12 They change the night into day: The light, [say they], is near unto the darkness.
Tho han turned the nyyt `in to day; and eft aftir derknessis hope liyt.
If Y `susteyne, ether suffre pacientli, helle is myn hous; and Y haue arayede my bed in derknessis. (Sheol h7585)
14 If I have said to corruption, Thou art my father; To the worm, [Thou art] my mother, and my sister;
Y seide to rot, Thou art my fadur; and to wormes, Ye ben my modir and my sister.
15 Where then is my hope? And as for my hope, who shall see it?
Therfor where is now myn abidyng? and who biholdith my pacience?
