Job 10
1 My soul is weary of my life, I will let go my speech against myself, I will speak in the bitterness of my soul.
My soul doth loathe my life, —I let loose my complaint, I speak, in the bitterness of my soul.
2 I will say to God: Do not condemn me: tell me why thou judgest me so.
I say unto GOD, Do not hold me guilty, Let me know, on what account thou contendest with me!
3 Doth it seem good to thee that thou shouldst calumniate me, and oppress me, the work of thy own hands, and help the counsel of the wicked?
Is it seemly in thee, that thou shouldst oppress? that thou shouldst despise the labour of thine own hand, when, upon the counsel of the lawless, thou hast shone?
4 Hast thou eyes of flesh: or, shalt thou see as man seeth?
Eyes of flesh, hast thou? or, as a mortal seeth, seest thou?
5 Are thy days as the days of man, and are thy years as the times of men:
As the days of a mortal, are thy days? or, thy years, as the days of a man?
6 That thou shouldst inquire after my iniquity, and search after my sin?
That thou shouldst seek for mine iniquity, and, for my sin, shouldst make search:
7 And shouldst know that I have done no wicked thing, whereas there is no man that can deliver out of thy hand.
Though it is, within thine own knowledge, that I would not be lawless, and, none, out of thy hand, can deliver?
8 Thy hands have made me, and fashioned me wholly round about, and dost thou thus cast me down headlong on a sudden?
Thine own hands, shaped me, and made me, all in unison round about, and yet thou hast confounded me.
9 Remember, I beseech thee, that thou hast made me as the clay, and thou wilt bring me into dust again.
Remember, I pray thee, that, as clay, thou didst make me, and, unto dust, thou wilt cause me to return.
10 Hast thou not milked me as milk, and curdled me like cheese?
Didst thou not, like milk, pour me forth? and, as cheese, curdle me?
11 Thou hast clothed me with skin and flesh: thou hast put me together with bones and sinews:
With skin and flesh, clothe me? and, with bones and sinews, interweave me?
12 Thou hast granted me life and mercy, and thy visitation hath preserved my spirit.
Life and lovingkindness, thou didst bestow upon me, —and, thy watchful care, preserved my breath.
13 Although thou conceal these things in thy heart, yet I know that thou rememberest all things.
Yet, these things, thou didst hide in thy heart, I know that, this, hath been with thee!
14 If I have sinned and thou hast spared me for an hour: why dost thou not suffer me to be clean from my iniquity?
If I have sinned, then couldst thou watch me, and, from mine iniquity, thou wouldst not acquit me:
15 And if I be wicked, woe unto me: and if just, I shall not lift up my head, being filled with affliction and misery.
If I have been lawless, alas for me! Or, if I am righteous, I will not lift up my head, Surfeited with shame, look thou then on my humiliation.
16 And for pride thou wilt take me as a lioness, and returning thou tormentest me wonderfully.
When it is lifted up, like a howling lion, thou dost hunt me, Then again thou dost shew thyself marvellous against me.
17 Thou renewest thy witnesses against me, and multipliest thy wrath upon me, and pains war against me.
Thou renewest thy witnesses before me, and dost increase thy vexation with me, Relays—yea an army, is with me.
18 Why didst thou bring me forth out of the womb: O that I had been consumed that eye might not see me!
Wherefore then, from the womb, didst thou bring me forth? I might have breathed my last, and, no eye, have seen me.
19 I should have been as if I had not been, carried from the womb to the grave.
As though I had not been, should I have become, —from the womb to the grave, might I have been borne.
20 Shall not the fewness of my days be ended shortly? suffer me, therefore, that I may lament my sorrow a little:
Are not my days, few?—then forbear, and set me aside, that I may brighten up for a little;
21 Before I go, and return no more, to a land that is dark and covered with the mist of death:
Before I go, and not return, unto a land of darkness and death-shade:
22 A land of misery and darkness, where the shadow of death, and no order, but everlasting horror dwelleth.
A land of obscurity, like thick darkness, of death-shade and disorder, and which shineth like thick darkness.
