Job 14
1 A man is borun of a womman, and lyueth schort tyme, and is fillid with many wretchidnessis.
Man, born of woman! Of few days, and full of trouble!
2 Which goith out, and is defoulid as a flour; and fleeth as schadewe, and dwellith neuere perfitli in the same staat.
As a flower he hath gone forth, and is cut off, And he fleeth as a shadow and standeth not.
3 And gessist thou it worthi to opene thin iyen on siche a man; and to brynge hym in to doom with thee?
Also — on this Thou hast opened Thine eyes, And dost bring me into judgment with Thee.
4 Who may make a man clene conseyued of vnclene seed? Whether not thou, which art aloone?
Who giveth a clean thing out of an unclean? not one.
5 The daies of man ben schorte, the noumbre of his monethis is at thee; thou hast set, ethir ordeyned, hise termes, whiche moun not be passid.
If determined are his days, The number of his months [are] with Thee, His limit Thou hast made, And he passeth not over;
6 Therfor go thou awey fro hym a litil, `that is, bi withdrawyng of bodili lijf, that he haue reste; til the meede coueitid come, and his dai is as the dai of an hirid man.
Look away from off him that he may cease, Till he enjoy as an hireling his day.
7 A tree hath hope, if it is kit doun; and eft it wexith greene, and hise braunches spreden forth.
For there is of a tree hope, if it be cut down, That again it doth change, That its tender branch doth not cease.
8 If the roote therof is eeld in the erthe, and the stok therof is nyy deed in dust;
If its root becometh old in the earth, And its stem doth die in the dust,
9 it schal buriowne at the odour of watir, and it schal make heer, as whanne it was plauntid first.
From the fragrance of water it doth flourish, And hath made a crop as a plant.
10 But whanne a man is deed, and maad nakid, and wastid; Y preye, where is he?
And a man dieth, and becometh weak, And man expireth, and where [is] he?
11 As if watris goen awei fro the see, and a ryuer maad voide wexe drie,
Waters have gone away from a sea, And a river becometh waste and dry.
12 so a man, whanne he hath slept, `that is, deed, he schal not rise ayen, til heuene be brokun, `that is, be maad newe; he schal not wake, nether he schal ryse togidere fro his sleep.
And man hath lain down, and riseth not, Till the wearing out of the heavens they awake not, Nor are roused from their sleep.
13 Who yiueth this to me, that thou defende me in helle, and that thou hide me, til thi greet veniaunce passe; and thou sette to me a tyme, in which thou haue mynde on me? (Sheol h7585)
O that in Sheol Thou wouldest conceal me, Hide me till the turning of Thine anger, Set for me a limit, and remember me. (Sheol h7585)
14 Gessist thou, whethir a deed man schal lyue ayen? In alle the daies, in whiche Y holde knyythod, now Y abide, til my chaungyng come.
If a man dieth — doth he revive? All days of my warfare I wait, till my change come.
15 Thou schalt clepe me, and Y schal answere thee; thou schalt dresse the riyt half, `that is, blis, to the werk of thin hondis.
Thou dost call, and I — I answer Thee; To the work of Thy hands Thou hast desire.
16 Sotheli thou hast noumbrid my steppis; but spare thou my synnes.
But now, my steps Thou numberest, Thou dost not watch over my sin.
17 Thou hast seelid as in a bagge my trespassis, but thou hast curid my wickidnesse.
Sealed up in a bag [is] my transgression, And Thou sewest up mine iniquity.
18 An hil fallynge droppith doun; and a rooche of stoon is borun ouer fro his place.
And yet, a falling mountain wasteth away, And a rock is removed from its place.
19 Watris maken stoonys holowe, and the erthe is wastid litil and litil bi waischyng a wey of watir; and therfor thou schalt leese men in lijk maner.
Stones have waters worn away, Their outpourings wash away the dust of earth, And the hope of man Thou hast destroyed.
20 Thou madist a man strong a litil, that he schulde passe with outen ende; thou schalt chaunge his face, and schalt sende hym out.
Thou prevailest [over] him for ever, and he goeth, He is changing his countenance, And Thou sendest him away.
21 Whether hise sones ben noble, ether vnnoble, he schal not vndurstonde.
Honoured are his sons, and he knoweth not; And they are little, and he attendeth not to them.
22 Netheles his fleisch, while he lyueth, schal haue sorewe, and his soule schal morne on hym silf.
Only — his flesh for him is pained, And his soul for him doth mourn.'
