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.

2 Y schal seie to God, Nyle thou condempne me; schewe thou to me, whi thou demest me so.

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?

4 Whethir fleischli iyen ben to thee, ethir, as a man seeth, also thou schalt se?

5 Whether thi daies ben as the daies of man, and `thi yeeris ben as mannus tymes;

6 that thou enquere my wickidnesse, and enserche my synne?

7 And wite, that Y haue do no `wickid thing; sithen no man is, that may delyuere fro thin hond?

8 Thin hondis han maad me, and han formed me al in cumpas; and thou castist me doun so sodeynli.

9 Y preye, haue thou mynde, that thou madist me as cley, and schalt brynge me ayen in to dust.

10 Whether thou hast not mylkid me as mylk, and hast cruddid me togidere as cheese?

11 Thou clothidist me with skyn and fleisch; thou hast ioyned me togidere with boonys and senewis.

12 Thou hast youe lijf and mercy to me, and thi visiting hath kept my spirit.

13 Thouy thou helist these thingis in thin herte, netheles Y woot, that thou hast mynde of alle thingis.

14 If Y dide synne, and thou sparidist me at an our; whi suffrist thou not me to be cleene of my wickidnesse?

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.

16 And if Y reise `the heed for pride, thou schalt take me as a lionesse; and thou turnest ayen, and turmentist me wondirli.

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.

18 Whi hast thou led me out of the wombe? `And Y wolde, that Y were wastid, lest an iye `schulde se me.

19 That Y hadde be, as if Y were not, and `were translatid, ethir borun ouer, fro the wombe to the sepulcre.

20 Whether the fewnesse of my daies schal not be endid in schort? Therfor suffre thou me, that Y biweile `a litil my sorewe,

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;

22 where is schadewe of deeth, and noon ordre, but euerlastynge hidousnesse dwellith.