Job 10
1 My soul doth loathe my life, —I let loose my complaint, I speak, in the bitterness of my soul.
My soule is cut off though I liue: I wil leaue my complaint vpon my selfe, and wil speake in the bitternesse of my soule.
2 I say unto GOD, Do not hold me guilty, Let me know, on what account thou contendest with me!
I will say vnto God, Condemne mee not: shew me, wherefore thou contendest with mee.
3 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?
Thinkest thou it good to oppresse me, and to cast off the labour of thine handes, and to fauour the counsel of the wicked?
4 Eyes of flesh, hast thou? or, as a mortal seeth, seest thou?
Hast thou carnall eyes? or doest thou see as man seeth?
5 As the days of a mortal, are thy days? or, thy years, as the days of a man?
Are thy dayes as mans dayes? or thy yeres, as the time of man,
6 That thou shouldst seek for mine iniquity, and, for my sin, shouldst make search:
That thou inquirest of mine iniquitie, and searchest out my sinne?
7 Though it is, within thine own knowledge, that I would not be lawless, and, none, out of thy hand, can deliver?
Thou knowest that I can not do wickedly: for none can deliuer me out of thine hand.
8 Thine own hands, shaped me, and made me, all in unison round about, and yet thou hast confounded me.
Thine handes haue made me, and fashioned mee wholy rounde about, and wilt thou destroy me?
9 Remember, I pray thee, that, as clay, thou didst make me, and, unto dust, thou wilt cause me to return.
Remember, I pray thee, that thou hast made me as the clay, and wilt thou bring me into dust againe?
10 Didst thou not, like milk, pour me forth? and, as cheese, curdle me?
Hast thou not powred me out as milke? and turned me to cruds like cheese?
11 With skin and flesh, clothe me? and, with bones and sinews, interweave me?
Thou hast clothed me with skin and flesh, and ioyned me together with bones and sinewes.
12 Life and lovingkindness, thou didst bestow upon me, —and, thy watchful care, preserved my breath.
Thou hast giuen me life, and grace: and thy visitation hath preserued my spirit.
13 Yet, these things, thou didst hide in thy heart, I know that, this, hath been with thee!
Though thou hast hid these things in thine heart, yet I knowe that it is so with thee.
14 If I have sinned, then couldst thou watch me, and, from mine iniquity, thou wouldst not acquit me:
If I haue sinned, then thou wilt streightly looke vnto me, and wilt not holde mee giltlesse of mine iniquitie.
15 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.
If I haue done wickedly, wo vnto me: if I haue done righteously, I will not lift vp mine head, being full of confusion, because I see mine affliction.
16 When it is lifted up, like a howling lion, thou dost hunt me, Then again thou dost shew thyself marvellous against me.
But let it increase: hunt thou me as a lyon: returne and shew thy selfe marueilous vpon me.
17 Thou renewest thy witnesses before me, and dost increase thy vexation with me, Relays—yea an army, is with me.
Thou renuest thy plagues against me, and thou increasest thy wrath against me: changes and armies of sorowes are against me.
18 Wherefore then, from the womb, didst thou bring me forth? I might have breathed my last, and, no eye, have seen me.
Wherfore then hast thou brought me out of the wombe? Oh that I had perished, and that none eye had seene me!
19 As though I had not been, should I have become, —from the womb to the grave, might I have been borne.
And that I were as I had not bene, but brought from the wombe to the graue!
20 Are not my days, few?—then forbear, and set me aside, that I may brighten up for a little;
Are not my dayes fewe? let him cease, and leaue off from me, that I may take a litle comfort,
21 Before I go, and not return, unto a land of darkness and death-shade:
Before I goe and shall not returne, euen to the land of darkenesse and shadow of death:
22 A land of obscurity, like thick darkness, of death-shade and disorder, and which shineth like thick darkness.
Into a land, I say, darke as darknes it selfe, and into the shadow of death, where is none order, but the light is there as darkenesse.
