Have You not made a fence around him and his house and all that he has, on every side? You have blessed the work of his hands, and his possessions have increased in the land.

“Remember now, who ever perished being innocent? Or where were the upright destroyed?

He puts no trust even in His servants; And He accuses His angels of error.

Between morning and evening they are broken in pieces; Unregarded, they perish forever.

In six troubles He will save you; Even in seven, evil will not touch you.

You would even cast lots for the orphans, And barter over your friend.

That You examine him every morning And put him to the test every moment?

In whose hand is the life of every living thing, And the breath of all mankind?

Even now, behold, my witness is in heaven, And my advocate is on high.

All around sudden terrors frighten him, And harass him at every step.

Even if I have truly done wrong, My error stays with me.

Everything Is Against Him

“Behold, I cry, ‘Violence!’ but I get no answer; I shout for help, but there is no justice.

He breaks me down on every side, and I am gone; And He has uprooted my hope like a tree.

Even young children despise me; I stand up and they speak against me.

Even after my skin is destroyed, Yet from my flesh I will see God,

“Therefore my disquieting thoughts make me respond, Even because of my inward agitation.

He returns the product of his labor And cannot swallow it; As to the riches of his trading, He cannot even enjoy them.

In the fullness of his excess he will be cramped; The hand of everyone who suffers will come against him.

It is drawn and comes out of his back, Even the flashing point from his gallbladder; Terrors come upon him,

Even when I remember, I am disturbed, And horror takes hold of my flesh.

Yet they say to God, ‘Go away from us! We do not even desire the knowledge of Your ways.

While another dies with a bitter soul, Never even tasting anything good.

“Even today my complaint is rebellion; His hand is heavy despite my groaning.

They are exalted a little while, then they are gone; Moreover, they are brought low, and like everything they are gathered up; Like the heads of grain they wither.

If even the moon has no brightness And the stars are not pure in His sight,