Job 17
1 “My spirit is broken; my days are extinguished; the grave awaits me.
Spiritus meus attenuabitur, dies mei breviabuntur, et solum mihi superest sepulchrum.
2 Surely mockers surround me, and my eyes must gaze at their rebellion.
Non peccavi, et in amaritudinibus moratur oculus meus.
3 Give me, I pray, the pledge You demand. Who else will be my guarantor?
Libera me Dominue, et pone me iuxta te, et cuiusvis manus pugnet contra me.
4 You have closed their minds to understanding; therefore You will not exalt them.
Cor eorum longe fecisti a disciplina, propterea non exaltabuntur.
5 If a man denounces his friends for a price, the eyes of his children will fail.
Prædam pollicetur sociis, et oculi filiorum eius deficient.
6 He has made me a byword among the people, a man in whose face they spit.
Posuit me quasi in proverbium vulgi, et exemplum sum coram eis.
7 My eyes have grown dim with grief, and my whole body is but a shadow.
Caligavit ab indignatione oculus meus, et membra mea quasi in nihilum redacta sunt.
8 The upright are appalled at this, and the innocent are stirred against the godless.
Stupebunt iusti super hoc, et innocens contra hypocritam suscitabitur.
9 Yet a righteous one holds to his way, and the one with clean hands grows stronger.
Et tenebit iustus viam suam, et mundis manibus addet fortitudinem.
10 But come back and try again, all of you. For I will not find a wise man among you.
Igitur omnes vos convertimini, et venite, et non inveniam in vobis ullum sapientem.
11 My days have passed; my plans are broken off— even the desires of my heart.
Dies mei transierunt, cogitationes meæ dissipatæ sunt, torquentes cor meum:
12 They have turned night into day, making light seem near in the face of darkness.
Noctem verterunt in diem, et rursum post tenebras spero lucem.
Si sustinuero, infernus domus mea est, et in tenebris stravi lectulum meum. (Sheol h7585)
14 and say to corruption, ‘You are my father,’ and to the worm, ‘My mother,’ or ‘My sister,’
Putredini dixi: Pater meus es, mater mea, et soror mea, vermibus.
15 where then is my hope? Who can see any hope for me?
Ubi est ergo nunc præstolatio mea, et patientiam meam quis considerat?
