Job, 17
1. Broken my will to live, shortened my days, the grave my only prospect;
2. my eye lingers on sights of bitterness, never through my fault!✻
3. Lord, wouldst thou but vindicate me, and set me right with thee! I care not who else is for or against me.✻
4. For these, at least, I care not; thou hast robbed their hearts of all discernment, and they shall have no cause for boasting.
5. Small thanks a man has for counting out the spoils, while his children go hungry!✻
6. A public by-word God has made me, a warning in all men’s sight,
7. my eyes grown dim, my whole frame wasted away, in my resentment.
8. Here is sore bewilderment for honest hearts; angrily do innocent men complain, to see knaves prosper,
9. will the just be true to their resolve any longer? Will they be encouraged to keep their hands clean?✻
10. Nay, sirs, return to the charge as often as you will; I do not look to find a wise man among you.
11. Swift pass my days, my mind distracted with whirling thoughts,
12. that make night into day for me, as through the hours of darkness I await the dawn.
13. Waiting for what? The grave is my destined home; among the shadows I must make my bed at last;
14. only from corruption I claim a father’s welcome, mother’s and sister’s greeting the worms shall offer me;
15. what hope is this? Wait I patiently or impatiently, who cares?
16. Into the deep pit I must go down, all of me; even there, in the dust, shall I find rest?✻
