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And Job answereth and saith: --
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O that my provocation were thoroughly weighed, And my calamity in balances They would lift up together!
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For now, than the sands of the sea it is heavier, Therefore my words have been rash.
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For arrows of the Mighty are with me, Whose poison is drinking up my spirit. Terrors of God array themselves for me!
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Brayeth a wild ass over tender grass? Loweth an ox over his provender?
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Eaten is an insipid thing without salt? Is there sense in the drivel of dreams?
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My soul is refusing to touch! They are as my sickening food.
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O that my request may come, That God may grant my hope!
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That God would please -- and bruise me, Loose His hand and cut me off!
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And yet it is my comfort, (And I exult in pain -- He doth not spare,) That I have not hidden The sayings of the Holy One.
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What is my power that I should hope? And what mine end That I should prolong my life?
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Is my strength the strength of stones? Is my flesh brazen?
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Is not my help with me, And substance driven from me?
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To a despiser of his friends is shame, And the fear of the Mighty he forsaketh.
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My brethren have deceived as a brook, As a stream of brooks they pass away.
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That are black because of ice, By them doth snow hide itself.
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By the time they are warm they have been cut off, By its being hot they have been Extinguished from their place.
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Turn aside do the paths of their way, They ascend into emptiness, and are lost.
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Passengers of Tema looked expectingly, Travellers of Sheba hoped for them.
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They were ashamed that one hath trusted, They have come unto it and are confounded.
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Surely now ye have become the same! Ye see a downfall, and are afraid.
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Is it because I said, Give to me? And, By your power bribe for me?
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And, Deliver me from the hand of an adversary? And, From the hand of terrible ones ransom me?
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Shew me, and I -- I keep silent, And what I have erred, let me understand.
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How powerful have been upright sayings, And what doth reproof from you reprove?
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For reproof -- do you reckon words? And for wind -- sayings of the desperate.
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Anger on the fatherless ye cause to fall, And are strange to your friend.
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And, now, please, look upon me, Even to your face do I lie?
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Turn back, I pray you, let it not be perverseness, Yea, turn back again -- my righteousness is in it.
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30. |
Is there in my tongue perverseness? Discerneth not my palate desirable things?
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