Job: why did you bring me from the womb?
I loathe my very life; therefore I will give free rein to my complaint and speak out in the bitterness of my soul. I say to God: Do not declare me guilty, but tell me what charges you have against me. Does it please you to oppress me, to spurn the work of your hands, while you smile on the plans of the wicked? Do you have eyes of flesh? Do you see as a mortal sees? Are your days like those of a mortal or your years like those of a strong man, that you must search out my faults and probe after my sin — though you know that I am not guilty and that no one can rescue me from your hand? Your hands shaped me and made me. Will you now turn and destroy me? Remember that you moulded me like clay. Will you now turn me to dust again? Did you not pour me out like milk and curdle me like cheese, clothe me with skin and flesh and knit me together with bones and sinews? You gave me life and showed me kindness, and in your providence watched over my spirit. But this is what you concealed in your heart, and I know that this was in your mind: If I sinned, you would be watching me and would not let my offence go unpunished. If I am guilty — woe to me! Even if I am innocent, I cannot lift my head, for I am full of shame and drowned in my affliction. If I hold my head high, you stalk me like a lion and again display your awesome power against me. You bring new witnesses against me and increase your anger toward me; your forces come against me wave upon wave. Why then did you bring me out of the womb? I wish I had died before any eye saw me. If only I had never come into being, or had been carried straight from the womb to the grave. Are not my few days almost over? Turn away from me so I can have a moment's joy before I go to the place of no return, to the land of gloom and utter darkness, to the land of deepest night, of utter darkness and disorder, where even the light is like darkness.
I loathe my very life;
therefore I will give free rein to my complaint
and speak out in the bitterness of my soul.
My soul is weary of my life; I will leave my complaint upon myself; I will speak in the bitterness of my soul.
I say to God: Do not declare me guilty,
but tell me what charges you have against me.
I will say unto God, Do not condemn me; shew me wherefore thou contendest with me.
Does it please you to oppress me,
to spurn the work of your hands,
while you smile on the plans of the wicked?
Is it good unto thee that thou shouldest oppress, that thou shouldest despise the work of thine hands, and shine upon the counsel of the wicked?
Do you have eyes of flesh?
Do you see as a mortal sees?
Hast thou eyes of flesh? or seest thou as man seeth?
Are your days like those of a mortal
or your years like those of a strong man,
Are thy days as the days of man? are thy years as man’s days,
that you must search out my faults
and probe after my sin —
That thou enquirest after mine iniquity, and searchest after my sin?
though you know that I am not guilty
and that no one can rescue me from your hand?
Thou knowest that I am not wicked; and there is none that can deliver out of thine hand.
Your hands shaped me and made me.
Will you now turn and destroy me?
Thine hands have made me and fashioned me together round about; yet thou dost destroy me.
Remember that you moulded me like clay.
Will you now turn me to dust again?
Remember, I beseech thee, that thou hast made me as the clay; and wilt thou bring me into dust again?
Did you not pour me out like milk
and curdle me like cheese,
Hast thou not poured me out as milk, and curdled me like cheese?
clothe me with skin and flesh
and knit me together with bones and sinews?
Thou hast clothed me with skin and flesh, and hast fenced me with bones and sinews.
You gave me life and showed me kindness,
and in your providence watched over my spirit.
Thou hast granted me life and favour, and thy visitation hath preserved my spirit.
But this is what you concealed in your heart,
and I know that this was in your mind:
And these things hast thou hid in thine heart: I know that this is with thee.
If I sinned, you would be watching me
and would not let my offence go unpunished.
If I sin, then thou markest me, and thou wilt not acquit me from mine iniquity.
If I am guilty — woe to me!
Even if I am innocent, I cannot lift my head,
for I am full of shame
and drowned in my affliction.
If I be wicked, woe unto me; and if I be righteous, yet will I not lift up my head. I am full of confusion; therefore see thou mine affliction;
If I hold my head high, you stalk me like a lion
and again display your awesome power against me.
For it increaseth. Thou huntest me as a fierce lion: and again thou shewest thyself marvellous upon me.
You bring new witnesses against me
and increase your anger toward me;
your forces come against me wave upon wave.
Thou renewest thy witnesses against me, and increasest thine indignation upon me; changes and war are against me.
Why then did you bring me out of the womb?
I wish I had died before any eye saw me.
Wherefore then hast thou brought me forth out of the womb? Oh that I had given up the ghost, and no eye had seen me!
If only I had never come into being,
or had been carried straight from the womb to the grave.
I should have been as though I had not been; I should have been carried from the womb to the grave.
Are not my few days almost over?
Turn away from me so I can have a moment's joy
Are not my days few? cease then, and let me alone, that I may take comfort a little,
before I go to the place of no return,
to the land of gloom and utter darkness,
Before I go whence I shall not return, even to the land of darkness and the shadow of death;
to the land of deepest night,
of utter darkness and disorder,
where even the light is like darkness.
A land of darkness, as darkness itself; and of the shadow of death, without any order, and where the light is as darkness.