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[1] Lo, all -- hath mine eye seen, Heard hath mine ear, and it attendeth to it.
[2] According to your knowledge I have known -- also I. I am not fallen more than you.
[3] Yet I for the Mighty One do speak, And to argue for God I delight.
[4] And yet, ye [are] forgers of falsehood, Physicians of nought -- all of you,
[5] O that ye would keep perfectly silent, And it would be to you for wisdom.
[6] Hear, I pray you, my argument, And to the pleadings of my lips attend,
[7] For God do ye speak perverseness? And for Him do ye speak deceit?
[8] His face do ye accept, if for God ye strive?
[9] Is [it] good that He doth search you, If, as one mocketh at a man, ye mock at Him?
[10] He doth surely reprove you, if in secret ye accept faces.
[11] Doth not His excellency terrify you? And His dread fall upon you?
[12] Your remembrances [are] similes of ashes, For high places of clay your heights.
[13] Keep silent from me, and I speak, And pass over me doth what?
[14] Wherefore do I take my flesh in my teeth? And my soul put in my hand?
[15] Lo, He doth slay me -- I wait not! Only, my ways unto His face I argue.
[16] Also -- He [is] to me for salvation, For the profane cometh not before Him.
[17] Hear ye diligently my word, And my declaration with your ears.
[18] Lo, I pray you, I have set in order the cause, I have known that I am righteous.
[19] Who [is] he that doth strive with me? For now I keep silent and gasp.
[20] Only two things, O God, do with me: Then from Thy face I am not hidden.
[21] Thy hand put far off from me, And Thy terror let not terrify me.
[22] And call Thou, and I -- I answer, Or -- I speak, and answer Thou me.
[23] How many iniquities and sins have I? My transgression and my sin let me know.
[24] Why dost Thou hide Thy face? And reckonest me for an enemy to Thee?
[25] A leaf driven away dost Thou terrify? And the dry stubble dost Thou pursue?
[26] For Thou writest against me bitter things, And causest me to possess iniquities of my youth:
[27] And puttest in the stocks my feet, And observest all my paths, On the roots of my feet Thou settest a print,
[28] And he, as a rotten thing, weareth away, As a garment hath a moth consumed him.
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