Job 16:6–17

“If I speak, my pain is not assuaged,

and if I forbear, how much of it leaves me?

Surely now God has worn me out;

he has made desolate all my company.

And he has shriveled me up,

which is a witness against me,

and my leanness has risen up against me;

it testifies to my face.

He has torn me in his wrath and hated me;

he has gnashed his teeth at me;

my adversary sharpens his eyes against me.

Men have gaped at me with their mouth;

they have struck me insolently on the cheek;

they mass themselves together against me.

God gives me up to the ungodly

and casts me into the hands of the wicked.

I was at ease, and he broke me apart;

he seized me by the neck and dashed me to pieces;

he set me up as his target;

his archers surround me.

He slashes open my kidneys and does not spare;

he pours out my gall on the ground.

He breaks me with breach upon breach;

he runs upon me like a warrior.

I have sewed sackcloth upon my skin

and have laid my strength in the dust.

My face is red with weeping,

and on my eyelids is deep darkness,

although there is no violence in my hands,

and my prayer is pure.

“Yet if I speak, my pain is not relieved;

and if I refrain, it does not go away.

Surely, God, you have worn me out;

you have devastated my entire household.

You have shriveled me up—and it has become a witness;

my gauntness rises up and testifies against me.

God assails me and tears me in his anger

and gnashes his teeth at me;

my opponent fastens on me his piercing eyes.

People open their mouths to jeer at me;

they strike my cheek in scorn

and unite together against me.

God has turned me over to the ungodly

and thrown me into the clutches of the wicked.

All was well with me, but he shattered me;

he seized me by the neck and crushed me.

He has made me his target;

his archers surround me.

Without pity, he pierces my kidneys

and spills my gall on the ground.

Again and again he bursts upon me;

he rushes at me like a warrior.

“I have sewed sackcloth over my skin

and buried my brow in the dust.

My face is red with weeping,

dark shadows ring my eyes;

yet my hands have been free of violence

and my prayer is pure.

If I speak, my suffering is not relieved,

and if I hold back, does any of it leave me?

Surely he has now exhausted me.

You have devastated my entire family.

You have shriveled me up—it has become a witness;

my frailty rises up against me and testifies to my face.

His anger tears at me, and he harasses me.

He gnashes his teeth at me.

My enemy pierces me with his eyes.

They open their mouths against me

and strike my cheeks with contempt;

they join themselves together against me.

God hands me over to the unjust;

he throws me to the wicked.

I was at ease, but he shattered me;

he seized me by the scruff of the neck

and smashed me to pieces.

He set me up as his target;

his archers surround me.

He pierces my kidneys without mercy

and pours my bile on the ground.

He breaks through my defenses again and again;

he charges at me like a warrior.

I have sewn sackcloth over my skin;

I have buried my strength in the dust.

My face has grown red with weeping,

and darkness covers my eyes,

although my hands are free from violence

and my prayer is pure.

Instead, I suffer if I defend myself,

and I suffer no less if I refuse to speak.

“O God, you have ground me down

and devastated my family.

As if to prove I have sinned, you’ve reduced me to skin and bones.

My gaunt flesh testifies against me.

God hates me and angrily tears me apart.

He snaps his teeth at me

and pierces me with his eyes.

People jeer and laugh at me.

They slap my cheek in contempt.

A mob gathers against me.

God has handed me over to sinners.

He has tossed me into the hands of the wicked.

“I was living quietly until he shattered me.

He took me by the neck and broke me in pieces.

Then he set me up as his target,

and now his archers surround me.

His arrows pierce me without mercy.

The ground is wet with my blood.

Again and again he smashes against me,

charging at me like a warrior.

I wear burlap to show my grief.

My pride lies in the dust.

My eyes are red with weeping;

dark shadows circle my eyes.

Yet I have done no wrong,

and my prayer is pure.

If I speak, my pain is not relieved;

and if I cease, how much will leave me?

“Surely now he has worn me out;

you have devastated all my company.

Thus you shriveled me up;

it became a witness.

And my leanness has risen up against me;

it testifies to my face.

His wrath has torn, and he has been hostile toward me;

he gnashed at me with his teeth.

My foe sharpens his eyes against me.

They gaped at me with their mouth;

they struck my cheeks with disgrace;

they have massed themselves together against me.

God delivers me to an evil one,

and he casts me into the hands of the wicked.

“I was at ease, then he broke me in two,

and he seized me by my neck;

then he shattered me

and set me up as a target for him.

His archers surround me;

he slashes open my kidneys, and he does not have compassion;

he pours out my gall on the ground.

He breached me breach upon breach;

he rushes at me like a warrior.

“I have sewed sackcloth on my skin,

and I have inserted my pride in the dust.

My face is red because of weeping,

and deep shadows are on my eyelids,

although violence is not on my hands,

and my prayer is pure.

Though I speak, my grief is not asswaged:

And though I forbear, what am I eased?

But now he hath made me weary:

Thou hast made desolate all my company.

And thou hast filled me with wrinkles, which is a witness against me:

And my leanness rising up in me

Beareth witness to my face.

He teareth me in his wrath, who hateth me:

He gnasheth upon me with his teeth;

Mine enemy sharpeneth his eyes upon me.

They have gaped upon me with their mouth;

They have smitten me upon the cheek reproachfully;

They have gathered themselves together against me.

God hath delivered me to the ungodly,

And turned me over into the hands of the wicked.

I was at ease, but he hath broken me asunder:

He hath also taken me by my neck, and shaken me to pieces,

And set me up for his mark.

His archers compass me round about,

He cleaveth my reins asunder, and doth not spare;

He poureth out my gall upon the ground.

He breaketh me with breach upon breach,

He runneth upon me like a giant.

I have sewed sackcloth upon my skin,

And defiled my horn in the dust.

My face is foul with weeping,

And on my eyelids is the shadow of death;

Not for any injustice in mine hands:

Also my prayer is pure.