Job's final survey of his case
3   They gnawed roots ^note in the desert,
gaunt with want and hunger, ^note
4   they plucked saltwort and wormwood
and root of broom ^note for their food.
5   Driven out from the society of men, ^note
pursued like thieves with hue and cry,
6   they lived in gullies and ravines,
holes in the earth and rocky clefts;
7   they howled like beasts among the bushes,
huddled together beneath the scrub,
8   vile base-born wretches,
hounded from the haunts of men.
9   Now I have become the target of their taunts,
my name is a byword among them.
10   They loathe me, they shrink from me,
they dare to spit in my face.
11   They run wild and savage ^note me;
at sight of me they throw off all restraint.
12   On my right flank they attack in a mob; ^note
they raise their siege-ramps against me,
13   they tear down my crumbling defences to my undoing,
and scramble up against me unhindered;
14   they burst in through the gaping breach;
at the moment of the crash they come rolling in.
15   Terror upon terror overwhelms me,
it sweeps away my resolution like the wind,
and my hope of victory vanishes like a cloud.
16   So now my soul is in turmoil within me, ^note
and misery has me daily in its grip.
17   By night pain pierces my very bones,
and there is ceaseless throbbing in my veins;
18   my garments are all bespattered with my phlegm,
which chokes me like the collar of a shirt.
19   God himself ^note has flung me down in the mud,
no better than dust or ashes.


20   I call for thy help, but thou dost not answer;
I stand up to plead, but thou sittest aloof;
21   thou hast turned cruelly against me

Job's final survey of his case
and with thy strong hand pursuest me in hatred;
22   thou dost snatch me up and set me astride the wind,
and the tempest ^note tosses me up and down.
23   I know that thou wilt hand me over to death,
to the place appointed for all mortal men.


24   Yet no beggar held out his hand
but was relieved ^note by me in his distress.
25   Did I not weep for the man whose life was hard?
Did not my heart grieve for the poor?
26   Evil has come though I expected good;
I looked for light but there came darkness.
27   My bowels are in ferment and know no peace;
days of misery stretch out before me.
28   I go about dejected and friendless;
I rise in the assembly, only to appeal for help.
29   The wolf is now my brother,
the owls of the desert have become my companions.
30   My blackened skin peels off,
and my body is scorched by the heat.
31   My harp has been tuned for a dirge,
my flute to the voice of those who weep.

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