Job 10
1 Yt anoieth my soule of my lijf; Y schal lete my speche ayens me, Y schal speke in the bitternesse of my soule.
My soul hath been weary of my life, I leave off my talking to myself, I speak in the bitterness of my soul.
2 Y schal seie to God, Nyle thou condempne me; schewe thou to me, whi thou demest me so.
I say unto God, 'Do not condemn me, Let me know why Thou dost strive [with] me.
3 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?
Is it good for Thee that Thou dost oppress? That Thou despisest the labour of Thy hands, And on the counsel of the wicked hast shone?
4 Whethir fleischli iyen ben to thee, ethir, as a man seeth, also thou schalt se?
Eyes of flesh hast Thou? As man seeth — seest Thou?
5 Whether thi daies ben as the daies of man, and `thi yeeris ben as mannus tymes;
As the days of man [are] Thy days? Thy years as the days of a man?
6 that thou enquere my wickidnesse, and enserche my synne?
That Thou inquirest for mine iniquity, And for my sin seekest?
7 And wite, that Y haue do no `wickid thing; sithen no man is, that may delyuere fro thin hond?
For Thou knowest that I am not wicked, And there is no deliverer from Thy hand.
8 Thin hondis han maad me, and han formed me al in cumpas; and thou castist me doun so sodeynli.
Thy hands have taken pains about me, And they make me together round about, And Thou swallowest me up!
9 Y preye, haue thou mynde, that thou madist me as cley, and schalt brynge me ayen in to dust.
Remember, I pray Thee, That as clay Thou hast made me, And unto dust Thou dost bring me back.
10 Whether thou hast not mylkid me as mylk, and hast cruddid me togidere as cheese?
Dost Thou not as milk pour me out? And as cheese curdle me?
11 Thou clothidist me with skyn and fleisch; thou hast ioyned me togidere with boonys and senewis.
Skin and flesh Thou dost put on me, And with bones and sinews dost fence me.
12 Thou hast youe lijf and mercy to me, and thi visiting hath kept my spirit.
Life and kindness Thou hast done with me. And Thy inspection hath preserved my spirit.
13 Thouy thou helist these thingis in thin herte, netheles Y woot, that thou hast mynde of alle thingis.
And these Thou hast laid up in Thy heart, I have known that this [is] with Thee.
14 If Y dide synne, and thou sparidist me at an our; whi suffrist thou not me to be cleene of my wickidnesse?
If I sinned, then Thou hast observed me, And from mine iniquity dost not acquit me,
15 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.
If I have done wickedly — woe to me, And righteously — I lift not up my head, Full of shame — then see my affliction,
16 And if Y reise `the heed for pride, thou schalt take me as a lionesse; and thou turnest ayen, and turmentist me wondirli.
And it riseth — as a lion Thou huntest me. And Thou turnest back — Thou shewest Thyself wonderful in me.
17 Thou gaderist in store thi witnessis ayens me, and thou multipliest thin yre, `that is, veniaunce, ayens me; and peynes holden knyythod in me.
Thou renewest Thy witnesses against me, And dost multiply Thine anger with me, Changes and warfare [are] with me.
18 Whi hast thou led me out of the wombe? `And Y wolde, that Y were wastid, lest an iye `schulde se me.
And why from the womb Hast Thou brought me forth? I expire, and the eye doth not see me.
19 That Y hadde be, as if Y were not, and `were translatid, ethir borun ouer, fro the wombe to the sepulcre.
As I had not been, I am, From the belly to the grave I am brought,
20 Whether the fewnesse of my daies schal not be endid in schort? Therfor suffre thou me, that Y biweile `a litil my sorewe,
Are not my days few? Cease then, and put from me, And I brighten up a little,
21 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;
Before I go, and return not, Unto a land of darkness and death-shade,
22 where is schadewe of deeth, and noon ordre, but euerlastynge hidousnesse dwellith.
A land of obscurity as thick darkness, Death-shade — and no order, And the shining [is] as thick darkness.'
