Job.
Chapter 6.
Then Job answered and said: 
O that my grief were weighed thoroughly! That my calamities were put together in the balance! 
Surely they would be heavier than the sand of the sea; On this account were my words rash. 
For the arrows of the Almighty have pierced me; Their poison drinketh up my spirit; The terrors of God set themselves in array against me. 
Doth the wild ass bray in the midst of grass? Or loweth the ox over his fodder? 
Can that which is unsavory be eaten without salt? Is there any taste in the white of an egg? 
That which my soul abhorreth to touch Hath become my loathsome food. 
O that I might have my request, And that God would grant me that which I long for! 
That it would please God to destroy me; That he would let loose his hand, and make an end of me! 
Yet it should still be my consolation, Yea, in unsparing anguish I would exult, That I have not denied the commands of the Holy One. 
What is my strength, that I should hope? And what mine end, that I should be patient? 
Is my strength the strength of stones? Or is my flesh brass? 
Alas, there is no help within me! Deliverance is driven from me! 
To the afflicted, kindness should be shown by a friend; Else he casteth off the fear of the Almighty. 
But my brethren are faithless like a brook; Like streams of the valley that pass away; 
Which are turbid by reason of the ice, And the snow, which hideth itself in them. 
As soon as they flow forth, they vanish; When the heat cometh, they are dried up from their place. 
The caravans turn aside to them on their way; They go up into the desert, and perish. 
The caravans of Tema look for them; The companies of Sheba expect to see them; 
They are ashamed that they have relied on them; They come to their place, and are confounded. 
So ye also are nothing; Ye see a terror, and shrink back. 
Have I said, Bring me gifts? Or, Give a present for me out of your substance? 
Or, Deliver me from the enemy's hand? Or, Rescue me from the hand of the violent? 
Convince me, and I will hold my peace; Cause me to understand wherein I have erred. 
How powerful are the words of truth! But what do your reproaches prove? 
Do ye mean to censure words? The words of a man in despair are but wind. 
Truly ye spread a net for the fatherless; Ye dig a pit for your friend. 
Look now upon me, I pray you; For to your very face can I speak falsehood? 
Return, I pray, and let there be no unfairness; Yea, return;—still is my cause righteous. 
Is there iniquity on my tongue? Cannot my taste discern what is sinful? 
