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Job wants an arbitrator

25 My days are swifter than a runner;
    they flee and don’t experience good.
26 They sweep by like ships made of reeds,
    as an eagle swoops on prey.
27 If I say, “I’ll forget my lament,
    put on a different face so I can smile,”
28     I’m still afraid of all my suffering;
        I know that you won’t declare me innocent.
29 I myself am thought guilty;
    why have I tried so hard in vain?
30 If I wash myself with snow,
        purify my hands with soap,
31     then you’ll hurl me into a slimy pit
        so that my clothes detest me.

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