Job 10
1 “My soul is weary of my life. I will give free course to my complaint. I will speak in the bitterness of my soul.
Yt anoieth my soule of my lijf; Y schal lete my speche ayens me, Y schal speke in the bitternesse of my soule.
2 I will tell God, ‘Do not condemn me. Show me why you contend with me.
Y schal seie to God, Nyle thou condempne me; schewe thou to me, whi thou demest me so.
3 Is it good to you that you should oppress, that you should despise the work of your hands, and smile on the counsel of the wicked?
Whether it semeth good to thee, if thou `falsli chalengist and oppressist me, the werk of thin hondis; and if thou helpist the counsel of wickid men?
4 Do you have eyes of flesh? Or do you see as man sees?
Whethir fleischli iyen ben to thee, ethir, as a man seeth, also thou schalt se?
5 Are your days as the days of mortals, or your years as man’s years,
Whether thi daies ben as the daies of man, and `thi yeeris ben as mannus tymes;
6 that you inquire after my iniquity, and search after my sin?
that thou enquere my wickidnesse, and enserche my synne?
7 Although you know that I am not wicked, there is no one who can deliver out of your hand.
And wite, that Y haue do no `wickid thing; sithen no man is, that may delyuere fro thin hond?
8 “‘Your hands have framed me and fashioned me altogether, yet you destroy me.
Thin hondis han maad me, and han formed me al in cumpas; and thou castist me doun so sodeynli.
9 Remember, I beg you, that you have fashioned me as clay. Will you bring me into dust again?
Y preye, haue thou mynde, that thou madist me as cley, and schalt brynge me ayen in to dust.
10 Haven’t you poured me out like milk, and curdled me like cheese?
Whether thou hast not mylkid me as mylk, and hast cruddid me togidere as cheese?
11 You have clothed me with skin and flesh, and knit me together with bones and sinews.
Thou clothidist me with skyn and fleisch; thou hast ioyned me togidere with boonys and senewis.
12 You have granted me life and loving kindness. Your visitation has preserved my spirit.
Thou hast youe lijf and mercy to me, and thi visiting hath kept my spirit.
13 Yet you hid these things in your heart. I know that this is with you:
Thouy thou helist these thingis in thin herte, netheles Y woot, that thou hast mynde of alle thingis.
14 if I sin, then you mark me. You will not acquit me from my iniquity.
If Y dide synne, and thou sparidist me at an our; whi suffrist thou not me to be cleene of my wickidnesse?
15 If I am wicked, woe to me. If I am righteous, I still will not lift up my head, being filled with disgrace, and conscious of my affliction.
And if Y was wickid, wo is to me; and if Y was iust, Y fillid with turment and wretchidnesse `schal not reise the heed.
16 If my head is held high, you hunt me like a lion. Again you show yourself powerful to me.
And if Y reise `the heed for pride, thou schalt take me as a lionesse; and thou turnest ayen, and turmentist me wondirli.
17 You renew your witnesses against me, and increase your indignation on me. Changes and warfare are with me.
Thou gaderist in store thi witnessis ayens me, and thou multipliest thin yre, `that is, veniaunce, ayens me; and peynes holden knyythod in me.
18 “‘Why, then, have you brought me out of the womb? I wish I had given up the spirit, and no eye had seen me.
Whi hast thou led me out of the wombe? `And Y wolde, that Y were wastid, lest an iye `schulde se me.
19 I should have been as though I had not been. I should have been carried from the womb to the grave.
That Y hadde be, as if Y were not, and `were translatid, ethir borun ouer, fro the wombe to the sepulcre.
20 Aren’t my days few? Stop! Leave me alone, that I may find a little comfort,
Whether the fewnesse of my daies schal not be endid in schort? Therfor suffre thou me, that Y biweile `a litil my sorewe,
21 before I go where I will not return from, to the land of darkness and of the shadow of death;
bifor that Y go, and turne not ayen, to the derk lond, and hilid with the derknesse of deth, to the lond of wrecchidnesse and of derknessis;
22 the land dark as midnight, of the shadow of death, without any order, where the light is as midnight.’”
where is schadewe of deeth, and noon ordre, but euerlastynge hidousnesse dwellith.
