^14-20 “So how could I ever argue with him,
    construct a defense that would influence God?
Even though I’m innocent I could never prove it;
    I can only throw myself on the Judge’s mercy.
If I called on God and he himself answered me,
    then, and only then, would I believe that he’d heard me.
As it is, he knocks me about from pillar to post,
    beating me up, black-and-blue, for no good reason.
He won’t even let me catch my breath,
    piles bitterness upon bitterness.
If it’s a question of who’s stronger, he wins, hands down!
    If it’s a question of justice, who’ll serve him the subpoena?
Even though innocent, anything I say incriminates me;
    blameless as I am, my defense just makes me sound worse.

^25-31 “My time is short—what’s left of my life races off
    too fast for me to even glimpse the good.
My life is going fast, like a ship under full sail,
    like an eagle plummeting to its prey.
Even if I say, ‘I’ll put all this behind me,
    I’ll look on the bright side and force a smile,’
All these troubles would still be like grit in my gut
    since it’s clear you’re not going to let up.
The verdict has already been handed down—‘Guilty!’—
    so what’s the use of protests or appeals?
Even if I scrub myself all over
    and wash myself with the strongest soap I can find,
It wouldn’t last—you’d push me into a pigpen, or worse,
    so nobody could stand me for the stink.

^32-35 “God and I are not equals; I can’t bring a case against him.
    We’ll never enter a courtroom as peers.
How I wish we had an arbitrator
    to step in and let me get on with life—
To break God’s death grip on me,
    to free me from this terror so I could breathe again.
Then I’d speak up and state my case boldly.
    As things stand, there is no way I can do it.”