Job.
Chapter 16.
And Job answereth and saith: — 
I have heard many such things, Miserable comforters are ye all. 
Is there an end to words of wind? Or what doth embolden thee that thou answerest? 
I also, like you, might speak, If your soul were in my soul's stead. I might join against you with words, And nod at you with my head. 
I might harden you with my mouth, And the moving of my lips might be sparing. 
If I speak, my pain is not restrained, And I cease — what goeth from me? 
Only, now, it hath wearied me; Thou hast desolated all my company, 
And Thou dost loathe me, For a witness it hath been, And rise up against me doth my failure, In my face it testifieth. 
His anger hath torn, and he hateth me, He hath gnashed at me with his teeth, My adversary sharpeneth his eyes for me. 
They have gaped on me with their mouth, In reproach they have smitten my cheeks, Together against me they set themselves. 
God shutteth me up unto the perverse, And to the hands of the wicked turneth me over. 
At ease I have been, and he breaketh me, And he hath laid hold on my neck, And he breaketh me in pieces, And he raiseth me to him for a mark. 
Go round against me do his archers. He splitteth my reins, and spareth not, He poureth out to the earth my gall. 
He breaketh me — breach upon breach, He runneth upon me as a mighty one. 
Sackcloth I have sewed on my skin, And have rolled in the dust my horn. 
My face is foul with weeping, And on mine eyelids is death-shade. 
Not for violence in my hands, And my prayer is pure. 
O earth, do not thou cover my blood! And let there not be a place for my cry. 
Also, now, lo, in the heavens is my witness, And my testifier in the high places. 
My interpreter is my friend, Unto God hath mine eye dropped: 
And he reasoneth for a man with God, And a son of man for his friend. 
When a few years do come, Then a path I return not do I go. 
