Job 6-7

Common English Bible

² Oh, that my grief were actually weighed,
    all of it were lifted up in scales;
³     for now it’s heavier than the sands of the sea;
        therefore, my words are rash.^[a]
4 The Almighty’s arrows are in me;
    my spirit drinks their poison,
    and God’s terrors are arrayed against me.
⁵ Does a donkey bray over grass
    or an ox bellow over its fodder?
⁶ Is tasteless food eaten without salt,
    or does egg white^[b] have taste?
⁷ I refuse to touch them;
    they resemble food for the sick.

⁸ Oh, that what I’ve requested would come
        and God grant my hope;
⁹     that God be willing to crush me,
    release his hand and cut me off.
¹⁰ I’d still take comfort,
    relieved^[c] even though in persistent pain;
        for I’ve not denied the words of the holy one.
¹¹ What is my strength, that I should hope;
    my end, that my life should drag on?
¹² Is my strength that of rocks,
    my flesh bronze?
¹³ I don’t have a helper for myself;
    success has been taken from me.

¹⁴ Are friends loyal to the one who despairs,^[d]
    or do they stop fearing the Almighty?
¹⁵ My companions are treacherous like a stream in the desert,
    like channels that overrun their streambeds,
¹⁶     like those darkened by thawing ice,
        in which snow is obscured
¹⁷     but that stop flowing in dry times
        and vanish from their channels in heat.
¹⁸ Caravans turn aside from their paths;
    they go up into untamed areas and perish.
¹⁹ Caravans from Tema look;
    merchants from Sheba hope for it.
²⁰ They are ashamed that they trusted;
    they arrive and are dismayed.
²¹ That’s what you are like;^[e]
    you see something awful and are afraid.

²² Have I said, “Give me something?
    Offer a bribe from your wealth for me?
²³     Rescue me from the hand of my enemy?
    Ransom me from the grip of the ruthless?”
²⁴ Instruct me and I’ll be quiet;
    inform me how I’ve erred.
²⁵ How painful are truthful words,
    but what do your condemnations accomplish?
²⁶ Do you intend to correct my words,
    to treat the words of a hopeless man as wind?
²⁷ Would you even gamble over an orphan,
    barter away your friend?
²⁸ Now look at me—
    would I lie to your face?
²⁹ Turn! Don’t be faithless.
    Turn now! I am righteous.
³⁰ Is there wrong on my tongue,
    or can my mouth not recognize disaster?

7 Isn’t slavery everyone’s condition on earth,
    our days like those of a hired worker?
²         Like a slave we pant for a shadow,
            await our task like a hired worker.
³ So I have inherited months of emptiness;
    nights of toil have been measured out for me.
⁴ If I lie down and think—When will I get up?—
    night drags on,^[f] and restless thoughts fill me until dawn.
⁵ My flesh is covered with worms and crusted earth;
    my skin hardens and oozes.
⁶ My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle;
    they reach their end without hope.^[g]
7 Remember that my life is wind;
    my eyes won’t see pleasure again.
⁸ The eye that sees me now will no longer look on me;
    your eyes will be on me, and I won’t exist.
⁹ A cloud breaks apart and moves on—
    like the one who descends to the grave^[h] and won’t rise,
¹⁰         won’t return home again,
        won’t be recognized in town anymore.

¹¹ But I won’t keep quiet;
    I will speak in the adversity of my spirit,
    groan in the bitterness of my life.
¹² Am I Sea^[i] or the Sea Monster^[j]
    that you place me under guard?
¹³ If I say, “My couch will comfort me,”
    my bed will diminish my murmuring.
¹⁴ You scare me with dreams,
    frighten me with visions.
¹⁵ I would choose strangling
    and death instead of my bones.
¹⁶ I reject life;^[k] I don’t want to live long;
    leave me alone, for my days are empty.

¹⁷ What are human beings, that you exalt them,
    that you take note of them,
¹⁸     visit them each morning,
    test them every moment?
¹⁹ Why not look away from me;
    let me alone until I swallow my spit?
²⁰ If I sinned, what did I do to you,
    guardian of people?
Why have you made me your target
    so that I’m a burden to myself?
²¹ Why not forgive my sin,
    overlook my iniquity?
Then I would lie down in the dust;
    you would search hard for me,
    and I would not exist.