Young's Literal Translation

Job 9

The Book of Job

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Chapter 10

1


 

  My soul hath been weary of my life, I leave off my talking to myself, I speak in the bitterness of my soul.  

 

 

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2


 

  I say unto God, 'Do not condemn me, Let me know why Thou dost strive [with] me.  

 

 

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3


 

  Is it good for Thee that Thou dost oppress? That Thou despisest the labour of Thy hands, And on the counsel of the wicked hast shone?  

 

 

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4


 

  Eyes of flesh hast Thou? As man seeth -- seest Thou?  

 

 

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5


 

  As the days of man [are] Thy days? Thy years as the days of a man?  

 

 

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6


 

  That Thou inquirest for mine iniquity, And for my sin seekest?  

 

 

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7


 

  For Thou knowest that I am not wicked, And there is no deliverer from Thy hand.  

 

 

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8


 

  Thy hands have taken pains about me, And they make me together round about, And Thou swallowest me up!  

 

 

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9


 

  Remember, I pray Thee, That as clay Thou hast made me, And unto dust Thou dost bring me back.  

 

 

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10


 

  Dost Thou not as milk pour me out? And as cheese curdle me?  

 

 

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11


 

  Skin and flesh Thou dost put on me, And with bones and sinews dost fence me.  

 

 

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12


 

  Life and kindness Thou hast done with me. And Thy inspection hath preserved my spirit.  

 

 

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13


 

  And these Thou hast laid up in Thy heart, I have known that this [is] with Thee.  

 

 

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14


 

  If I sinned, then Thou hast observed me, And from mine iniquity dost not acquit me,  

 

 

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15


 

  If I have done wickedly -- wo to me, And righteously -- I lift not up my head, Full of shame -- then see my affliction,  

 

 

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16


 

  And it riseth -- as a lion Thou huntest me. And Thou turnest back -- Thou shewest Thyself wonderful in me.  

 

 

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17


 

  Thou renewest Thy witnesses against me, And dost multiply Thine anger with me, Changes and warfare [are] with me.  

 

 

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18


 

  And why from the womb Hast Thou brought me forth? I expire, and the eye doth not see me.  

 

 

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19


 

  As I had not been, I am, From the belly to the grave I am brought,  

 

 

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20


 

  Are not my days few? Cease then, and put from me, And I brighten up a little,  

 

 

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21


 

  Before I go, and return not, Unto a land of darkness and death-shade,  

 

 

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22


 

  A land of obscurity as thick darkness, Death-shade -- and no order, And the shining [is] as thick darkness.'  

 

 

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Job 11

 

 

 

 

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