And Job answered, and said,
O that my vexation were exactly weighed,{HR}And my calamity raised in the scales together!
For now is it heavier than the sand of the seas,{HR}Therefore do my words rave.
For the arrows of the Almighty are in me,{HR}The poison of which my spirit drinketh up.{HR}The terrors of God array themselves against me.
Doth the wild ass bray by the fresh grass?{HR}Doth an ox low over his fodder?
Is that which is tasteless eaten without salt?{HR}Is there flavour in the white of an egg?
My soul refuseth to touch:{HR}They are as the disease of my bread.
O that my request might come,{HR}And that God would grant my longing,
That it might please God to destroy me,{HR}That he would let loose his hand, and cut me off!
So would it ever be my comfort,{HR}And I would exult if he in pain should not spare,{HR}For I have not denied the words of the Holy One.
What is my strength that I should wait,{HR}And what mine end that I should be patient?
Is my strength the strength of stones?{HR}Is my flesh copper?
Truly is not the nothingness of help with me,{HR}And substance driven away from me?
To the despairing there is gentleness from his friends,{HR}Even to one forsaking the face of the Almighty.
My brethren have deceived as a torrent,{HR}As the bed of torrents which overflow.
Turbid are they from ice;{HR}The snow hideth itself in them:
What time heat cometh, they are cut off;{HR}When it is hot, they are extinguished from their place.
Caravans turn aside out of their way,{HR}They go up into the waste, and vanish.
The caravans of Tema looked,{HR}The companies of Sheba hoped for them;
They were put to shame because one trusted,{HR}They came up to it, and became red with shame.
For truly ye are become nothing,{HR}Ye see a terror, and are dismayed.
Is it that I ever said, Give me,{HR}And bring presents to me from your wealth,
And deliver me out of the enemy’s hand,{HR}And redeem me out of the oppressor’s hand?
Teach me, and I will be silent,{HR}And show me wherein I have erred.
How sweet are right words!{HR}And what doth reproof from you reprove?
Think you to reprove words,{HR}When the speeches of one despairing are but wind?
Ye would even let fall on the orphan,{HR}And would traffic for your friend.
But now be pleased to face me,{HR}And to your faces it will be if I lie.
Return, I pray, let there be no wrong;{HR}Yea, return; I am still right therein.
Is there wrong in my tongue?{HR}Doth not my palate discern calamities?