Job.
Chapter 6.
And Job answers and says: 
“O that my provocation were thoroughly weighed, || And my calamity in balances || They would lift up together! 
For now it is heavier than the sands of the sea, || Therefore my words have been rash. 
For arrows of the Mighty are with me, || Whose poison is drinking up my spirit. Terrors of God array themselves for me! 
Does a wild donkey bray over tender grass? Does an ox low over his provender? 
Is an insipid thing eaten without salt? Is there sense in the drivel of dreams? 
My soul is refusing to touch! They are as my sickening food. 
O that my request may come, || That God may grant my hope! 
That God would please—and bruise me, || Loose His hand and cut me off! 
And yet it is my comfort || (And I exult in pain—He does not spare), || That I have not hidden || The sayings of the Holy One. 
What is my power that I should hope? And what is my end that I should prolong my life? 
Is my strength the strength of stones? Is my flesh bronze? 
Is my help not with me, || And substance driven from me? 
To a despiser of his friends is shame, || And the fear of the Mighty he forsakes. 
My brothers have deceived as a brook, || As a stream of brooks they pass away. 
That are black because of ice, || By them snow hides itself. 
By the time they are warm they have been cut off, || By its being hot they have been || Extinguished from their place. 
The paths turn aside of their way, || They ascend into emptiness, and are lost. 
Passengers of Tema looked expectingly, || Travelers of Sheba hoped for them. 
They were ashamed that one has trusted, || They have come to it and are confounded. 
Surely now you have become the same! You see a downfall, and are afraid. 
Is it because I said, Give to me? And, By your power bribe for me? 
And, Deliver me from the hand of an adversary? And, Ransom me from the hand of terrible ones? 
Show me, and I keep silent, || And what I have erred, let me understand. 
How powerful have been upright sayings, || And what reproof from you reproves? 
For reproof—do you reckon words? And for wind—sayings of the desperate? 
You cause anger to fall on the fatherless, || And are strange to your friend. 
And now, please, look on me, || Even to your face do I lie? 
Please turn back, let it not be perverseness, || Indeed, turn back again—my righteousness is in it. 
Is there perverseness in my tongue? Does my palate not discern calamity?” 
