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My soul is weary of my life; I will leave my complaint upon myself; I will speak in the bitterness of my soul. |
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I will say unto God, Do not condemn me; shew me wherefore thou contendest with me. |
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Is it good unto thee that thou shouldest oppress, that thou shouldest despise the work of thine hands, and shine upon the counsel of the wicked? |
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Hast thou eyes of flesh? or seest thou as man seeth? |
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Are thy days as the days of man? are thy years as man's days, |
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That thou inquirest after mine iniquity, and searchest after my sin? |
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Thou knowest that I am not wicked; and there is none that can deliver out of thine hand. |
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Thine hands have made me and fashioned me together round about; yet thou dost destroy me. |
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Remember, I beseech thee, that thou hast made me as the clay; and wilt thou bring me into dust again? |
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Hast thou not poured me out as milk, and curdled me like cheese? |
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Thou hast clothed me with skin and flesh, and hast fenced me with bones and sinews. |
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Thou hast granted me life and favour, and thy visitation hath preserved my spirit. |
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And these things hast thou hid in thine heart: I know that this is with thee. |
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If I sin, then thou markest me, and thou wilt not acquit me from mine iniquity. |
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If I be wicked, woe unto me; and if I be righteous, yet will I not lift up my head. I am full of confusion; therefore see thou mine affliction; |
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For it increaseth. Thou huntest me as a fierce lion: and again thou shewest thyself marvellous upon me. |
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Thou renewest thy witnesses against me, and increasest thine indignation upon me; changes and war are against me. |
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Wherefore then hast thou brought me forth out of the womb? Oh that I had given up the ghost, and no eye had seen me! |
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I should have been as though I had not been; I should have been carried from the womb to the grave. |
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Are not my days few? cease then, and let me alone, that I may take comfort a little, |
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Before I go whence I shall not return, even to the land of darkness and the shadow of death; |
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A land of darkness, as darkness itself; and of the shadow of death, without any order, and where the light is as darkness. |