Job

13 Lo! all [this] hath mine own eye seen,—Mine ear hath heard and understood it:

2 Just as ye know I too know, I fall not short of you.

3 But indeed I unto the Almighty would speak, And to direct my argument unto God would I be well pleased.

4 For in truth ye do besmear with falsehood, Worthless physicians all of you!

5 Oh that ye would altogether hold your peace, And it should serve you for wisdom!

6 Hear, I pray you, the argument of my mouth, And to the pleadings of my lips give heed:—

7 Is it for God ye would speak perversely? And for him would ye speak deceit:

8 Even for him would ye be partial? Or for God would ye [so] plead?

9 Would it be well when he searched you out? Or as one might jest with a mortal would ye jest with him?

10 He will severely rebuke you, If ye are secretly partial.

11 Shall not his majesty overwhelm you? And the dread of him fall upon you?

12 Are not your memorable sayings proverbs of ashes? Breastworks of clay your breastworks?

13 Quietly let me alone, that I may speak out, Then let come on me what may.

14 In any case I will take up my flesh in my teeth, And my life will I put in my hand:

15 Lo! he may slay me, [yet] for him will I wait,—Nevertheless my ways—unto his face will I show to be right:

16 Even he will be on my side—unto salvation, For not before his face shall any impious person come.

17 Hear ye patiently my speech, And be my declaration in your ears.

18 Lo! I pray you, I have set forth in order a plea, I know that I shall be found right.

19 Who is it that shall contend with me? For now if I should hold my peace why! I should breathe my last!

20 Only two things do thou not with me, Then from thy face will I not hide me:—

21 Thy hand—from off me take thou far away, And thy terror let it not startle me!

22 Then call thou and I will answer, Or I will speak and reply thou unto me.

23 How many are mine iniquities and sins? My transgression and my sin let me know!

24 Wherefore thy face shouldst thou hide? Or count me as an enemy to thee?

25 A driven leaf wilt thou cause to tremble? Or dry stubble wilt thou pursue?

26 For thou writest against me bitter things, And dost make me inherit the iniquities of my youth;

27 And thou dost put—in the stocks—my feet And observest all my paths, Against the roots of my feet thou dost cut out a bound;

28 And a man himself as a rotten thing weareth out, As a garment which the moth hath eaten.