Job 6
1 Then Job responded:
Forsothe Joob answeride, and seide,
2 “If my grief could be weighed and my troubles placed on the scales
Y wolde, that my synnes, bi whiche Y `desseruede ire, and the wretchidnesse which Y suffre, weren peisid in a balaunce.
3 they would be heavier than the sand of the sea. That's why I spoke so rashly.
As the grauel of the see, this wretchidnesse schulde appere greuousere; wherfor and my wordis ben ful of sorewe.
4 For the arrows of the Almighty are in me; their poison saps my spirit. God's terrors are lined up against me.
For the arowis of the Lord ben in me, the indignacioun of whiche drynkith vp my spirit; and the dredis of the Lord fiyten ayens me.
5 Don't wild donkeys bray when their grass is gone? Don't cattle groan when they don't have food!
Whether a feeld asse schal rore, whanne he hath gras? Ethir whether an oxe schal lowe, whanne he stondith byfor a `ful cratche?
6 Can something that's tasteless be eaten without salt? Is there any taste in the white of an egg?
Ether whethir a thing vnsauery may be etun, which is not maad sauery bi salt? Ether whether ony man may taaste a thing, which tastid bryngith deeth?
7 I just can't touch any food—even the thought makes me feel sick!
For whi to an hungri soule, yhe, bittir thingis semen to be swete; tho thingis whiche my soule nolde touche bifore, ben now my meetis for angwisch.
8 Oh, if only I could have what I really want, that God would give me what I most desire—
Who yyueth, that myn axyng come; and that God yyue to me that, that Y abide?
9 that God would be willing to crush me to death, that he would just let me die!
And he that bigan, al to-breke me; releesse he his hond, and kitte me doun?
10 But it still comforts me to know, making me happy through the never-ending pain, that I have never rejected the words of God.
And `this be coumfort to me, that he turmente me with sorewe, and spare not, and that Y ayenseie not the wordis of the hooli.
11 Why should I go on waiting when I don't have the strength? Why should I keep going when I don't know what is going to happen to me?
For whi, what is my strengthe, that Y suffre? ethir which is myn ende, that Y do pacientli?
12 Am I as strong as rock? Am I made out of bronze?
Nethir my strengthe is the strengthe of stoonus, nether my fleisch is of bras.
13 How can I help myself now that any chance of success is ripped away from me?
Lo! noon help is to me in me; also my meyneal frendis `yeden awey fro me.
14 Anyone who isn't kind to a friend has given up respecting the Almighty.
He that takith awei merci fro his frend, forsakith the drede of the Lord.
15 My brothers have acted as deceptively as a desert stream, rushing waters in the desert that vanish.
My britheren passiden me, as a stronde doith, that passith ruschyngli in grete valeis.
16 The stream floods when it is full of dark ice and melting snow,
Snow schal come on hem, that dreden frost.
17 but in the heat it dries up and disappears, vanishing from where it once was.
In the tyme wherynne thei ben scaterid, thei schulen perische; and as thei ben hoote, thei schulen be vnknyt fro her place.
18 Camel caravans turn aside to look for water, but don't find any and they die.
The pathis of her steppis ben wlappid; thei schulen go in veyn, and schulen perische.
19 Caravans from Tema looked, travelers from Sheba were confident,
Biholde ye the pathis of Theman, and the weies of Saba; and abide ye a litil.
20 but their hopes were dashed—they came and found nothing.
Thei ben schent, for Y hopide; and thei camen `til to me, and thei ben hilid with schame.
21 Now you are no help, just like that—you see my trouble and you're afraid.
Now ye ben comun, and now ye seen my wounde, and dreden.
22 Have I asked you for anything? Have I told you to bribe anyone for me from your wealth?
Whether Y seide, Brynge ye to me, and yiue ye of youre catel to me? ethir,
23 Have I asked you to rescue me from an enemy? Have I told you to save me from my oppressors?
Delyuere ye me fro the hond of enemy, and rauysche ye me fro the hond of stronge men?
24 Explain this to me, and I'll be quiet. Show me where I'm wrong.
Teche ye me, and Y schal be stille; and if in hap Y vnknew ony thing, teche ye me.
25 Honest words are painful, but what do your arguments prove?
Whi han ye depraued the wordis of trewthe? sithen noon is of you, that may repreue me.
26 Are you going to argue over what I said, when the words of someone in despair should be left to blow away in the wind?
Ye maken redi spechis oneli for to blame, and ye bryngen forth wordis in to wynde.
27 You would play dice to win an orphan; you would bargain away your friend!
Ye fallen in on a fadirles child, and enforsen to peruerte youre frend.
28 Look me in the eye and see if I'm lying to your face!
Netheles fille ye that, that ye han bigunne; yyue ye the eere, and se ye, whether Y lie.
29 Don't talk like this! Don't be unjust! What I'm saying is right.
Y biseche, answere ye with out strijf, and speke ye, and deme ye that, that is iust.
30 I'm not telling lies—don't you think I wouldn't know if I was wrong?”
And ye schulen not fynde wickidnesse in my tunge, nethir foli schal sowne in my chekis.
