Job 17
1 My breath is corrupt, my days are extinct, the graves are mine.
“My spirit is broken; my days are extinguished; the grave awaits me.
2 Are there not mockers around me? and doth [not] mine eye abide in their provocation?
Surely mockers surround me, and my eyes must gaze at their rebellion.
3 Lay down now [a pledge], be thou surety for me with thyself: who is he that striketh hands with me?
Give me, I pray, the pledge You demand. Who else will be my guarantor?
4 For thou hast hidden their heart from understanding; therefore thou wilt not exalt [them].
You have closed their minds to understanding; therefore You will not exalt them.
5 He that betrayeth friends for a prey — even the eyes of his children shall fail.
If a man denounces his friends for a price, the eyes of his children will fail.
6 And he hath made me a proverb of the peoples; and I am become one to be spit on in the face.
He has made me a byword among the people, a man in whose face they spit.
7 And mine eye is dim by reason of grief, and all my members are as a shadow.
My eyes have grown dim with grief, and my whole body is but a shadow.
8 Upright men [shall be] astonished at this, and the innocent shall be stirred up against the ungodly;
The upright are appalled at this, and the innocent are stirred against the godless.
9 But the righteous shall hold on his way, and he that hath clean hands shall increase in strength.
Yet a righteous one holds to his way, and the one with clean hands grows stronger.
10 But as for you all, pray come on again; and I shall not find one wise man among you.
But come back and try again, all of you. For I will not find a wise man among you.
11 My days are past, my purposes are broken off, the cherished thoughts of my heart.
My days have passed; my plans are broken off— even the desires of my heart.
12 They change the night into day; the light [they imagine] near in presence of the darkness.
They have turned night into day, making light seem near in the face of darkness.
If I look for Sheol as my home, if I spread out my bed in darkness, (Sheol h7585)
14 I cry to the grave, Thou art my father! to the worm, My mother, and my sister!
and say to corruption, ‘You are my father,’ and to the worm, ‘My mother,’ or ‘My sister,’
15 And where is then my hope? yea, my hope, who shall see it?
where then is my hope? Who can see any hope for me?
