CHAPTER 16
1And Job spoke up and he said:
I have heard much of this sort,
wretched consolers are you all.
2Is there any end to words of hot air,
or what compels you to speak up?
3I, too, like you, would speak,
were you in my place
4I would din words against you,
and would wag my head over you.
5 I would bolster you with my speech,
my lips’ movement would hold back pain.
6Should I speak, my pain would not be held back,
should I desist, it would not go away from me.
7But now He has worn me out.
8And You crease my face, it becomes a witness,
my gauntness deposes against me.
9His wrath tore me apart, seethed against me,
He gnashed His teeth against me,
10 They gaped with their mouths against me,
in scorn they struck my cheeks,
together they close ranks round me.
11God delivers me to a wrongdoer
lets me fall in the hands of the wicked.
12I was tranquil—he shook me to pieces,
seized my nape and broke me apart,
set me up as a target for Him.
13His archers gathered around me.
He pierces my kidneys, pitiless,
He spills my gall to the ground.
14He breaches me breach upon breach,
rushes at me like a warrior.
15Sackcloth I sewed for my scabs,
and I thrust my horn in the dust.
16My face was reddened from weeping,
and on my eyelids—death’s shadow,
17for no outrage I had done,
and my prayer had been pure.
18Earth, O do not cover my blood,
and let there be no place for my scream.
19Even now, in the heavens my witness stands,
one who vouches for me up above.
20 My advocates, my companions!
Before God my eye sheds tears.
21 Let a man dispute with God
and a human with his fellow.
22For a handful of years will come,
and on the path of no return I shall go.
17:1 My spirit is wrecked,
my days flicker out.
Graves are what I have.