|Then Job answered:||Job. Jb.6.1-7.21|
|"O that my vexation were weighed, |
and all my calamity laid in the balances!
|For then it would be heavier than the sand of the sea; |
therefore my words have been rash.
|For the arrows of the Almighty are in me; |
my spirit drinks their poison;
the terrors of God are arrayed against me.
|Does the wild ass bray when he has grass, |
or the ox low over his fodder?
|Can that which is tasteless be eaten without salt, |
or is there any taste in the slime of the purslane?
|My appetite refuses to touch them; |
they are as food that is loathsome to me.
|"O that I might have my request, |
and that God would grant my desire;
|that it would please God to crush me, |
that he would let loose his hand and cut me off!
|This would be my consolation; |
I would even exult in pain unsparing;
for I have not denied the words of the Holy One.
|What is my strength, that I should wait? |
And what is my end, that I should be patient?
|Is my strength the strength of stones, |
or is my flesh bronze?
|In truth I have no help in me, |
and any resource is driven from me.
|"He who withholds kindness from a friend |
forsakes the fear of the Almighty.
|My brethren are treacherous |
as a torrent-bed, as freshets that pass away,
|which are dark with ice, |
and where the snow hides itself.
|In time of heat they disappear; |
when it is hot, they vanish from their place.
|The caravans turn aside from their course; |
they go up into the waste, and perish.
|The caravans of Tema look, |
the travelers of Sheba hope.
|They are disappointed because they were confident; |
they come thither and are confounded.
|Such you have now become to me;|
you see my calamity, and are afraid.
|Have I said, 'Make me a gift'? |
Or, 'From your wealth offer a bribe for me'?
|Or, 'Deliver me from the adversary's hand'? |
Or, 'Ransom me from the hand of oppressors'?
|"Teach me, and I will be silent; |
make me understand how I have erred.
|How forceful are honest words! |
But what does reproof from you reprove?
|Do you think that you can reprove words, |
when the speech of a despairing man is wind?
|You would even cast lots over the fatherless, |
and bargain over your friend.
|"But now, be pleased to look at me; |
for I will not lie to your face.
|Turn, I pray, let no wrong be done. |
Turn now, my vindication is at stake.
|Is there any wrong in my tongue? |
Cannot my taste discern calamity?
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