Job 17
1 My spirit is crushed; my life is extinguished; the grave is ready for me.
My breath is corrupt, my days are extinct, the graves are mine.
2 Mockers surround me. I see how bitterly they ridicule me.
Are there not mockers around me? and doth [not] mine eye abide in their provocation?
3 God, you need to put down a pledge for me with yourself, for who else will be my guarantor?
Lay down now [a pledge], be thou surety for me with thyself: who is he that striketh hands with me?
4 You have closed their minds to understanding, so do not let them win!
For thou hast hidden their heart from understanding; therefore thou wilt not exalt [them].
5 They betray friends to gain benefit for themselves and their children suffer for it.
He that betrayeth friends for a prey — even the eyes of his children shall fail.
6 He has made me a proverb of ridicule among the people; they spit in my face.
And he hath made me a proverb of the peoples; and I am become one to be spit on in the face.
7 My eyes are worn out from crying and my body is a shadow of its former self.
And mine eye is dim by reason of grief, and all my members are as a shadow.
8 People who think they are good are shocked to see me. Those who are innocent are troubled by the godless.
Upright men [shall be] astonished at this, and the innocent shall be stirred up against the ungodly;
9 Those who are right keep going, and those whose hands are clean grow stronger and stronger.
But the righteous shall hold on his way, and he that hath clean hands shall increase in strength.
10 Why don't you come back and repeat again what you've been saying?—yet I still won't find a wise man among you!
But as for you all, pray come on again; and I shall not find one wise man among you.
11 My life is over. My plans are gone. My heart is broken.
My days are past, my purposes are broken off, the cherished thoughts of my heart.
12 They turn night into day, and say that daylight is close to darkness.
They change the night into day; the light [they imagine] near in presence of the darkness.
If I wait, Sheol is my house; I spread my bed in the darkness: (Sheol h7585)
14 Should I call the grave my father, and the maggot my mother or my sister?
I cry to the grave, Thou art my father! to the worm, My mother, and my sister!
15 So then where is my hope? Can anyone see any hope for me?
And where is then my hope? yea, my hope, who shall see it?
