Job

¹ “I loathe my own life;

I will express my complaint

and speak in the bitterness of my soul.

² I will say to God:

Do not condemn me!

Let me know why You prosecute me.

³ Does it please You to oppress me,

to reject the work of Your hands

and favor the schemes of the wicked?

⁴ Do You have eyes of flesh?

Do You see as man sees?

⁵ Are Your days like those of a mortal,

or Your years like those of a man,

⁶ that You should seek my iniquity

and search out my sin—

⁷ though You know that I am not guilty,

and there is no deliverance from Your hand?

⁸ Your hands shaped me and altogether formed me.

Would You now turn and destroy me?

⁹ Please remember that You molded me like clay.

Would You now return me to dust?

¹⁰ Did You not pour me out like milk,

and curdle me like cheese?

¹¹ You clothed me with skin and flesh,

and knit me together with bones and sinews.

¹² You have granted me life and loving devotion, ^[a]

and Your care has preserved my spirit.

¹³ Yet You concealed these things in Your heart,

and I know that this was in Your mind:

¹⁴ If I sinned, You would take note,

and would not acquit me of my iniquity.

¹⁵ If I am guilty, woe to me!

And even if I am righteous, I cannot lift my head.

I am full of shame

and aware of my affliction.

¹⁶ Should I hold my head high,

You would hunt me like a lion,

and again display Your power against me.

¹⁷ You produce new witnesses against me

and multiply Your anger toward me.

Hardships assault me

in wave after wave.

¹⁸ Why then did You bring me from the womb?

Oh, that I had died, and no eye had seen me!

¹⁹ If only I had never come to be,

but had been carried from the womb to the grave.

²⁰ Are my days not few?

Withdraw from me, that I may have a little comfort,

²¹ before I go—never to return—

to a land of darkness and gloom,

²² to a land of utter darkness,

of deep shadow and disorder,

where even the light is like darkness.”