The Book of Job

⭑ Literal Standard Version :: World English Bible Catholic ⭑

- Chapter 7 -

Job: My suffering is without consolation

“Is there not warfare to man on earth? And his days as the days of a hired worker?

As a servant desires the shadow, || And as a hired worker expects his wage,

So I have been caused to inherit months of vanity, || And they numbered nights of misery to me.

If I lay down, then I have said, When do I rise, || And evening has been measured? And I have been full of tossings until dawn.

My flesh has been clothed [with] worms, || And a clod of dust, || My skin has been shriveled and is loathsome,

My days swifter than a loom, || And they are consumed without hope.

Remember that my life [is] a breath, || My eye does not turn back to see good.

The eye of my beholder does not behold me. Your eyes [are] on me—and I am not.

A cloud has been consumed, and it goes, || So he who is going down to Sheol does not come up.

He does not turn to his house again, || Nor does his place discern him again.

Also I do not withhold my mouth—I speak in the distress of my spirit, I talk in the bitterness of my soul.

Am I a sea [monster], or a dragon, || That You set a watch over me?

When I said, My bed comforts me, || In my talking He takes away my couch.

And You have frightened me with dreams, || And You terrify me from visions,

And my soul chooses strangling, || Death rather than my bones.

I have wasted away—I do not live for all time. Cease from me, for my days [are] vanity.

What [is] man that You magnify him? And that You set Your heart to him?

And inspect him in the mornings, || [And] in the evenings try him?

How long do You not look from me? You do not desist until I swallow my spittle.

I have sinned, what do I do to You, || O watcher of man? Why have You set me for a mark to You, || And I am for a burden to myself—and what?

You do not take away my transgression, || And [do not] cause my iniquity to pass away, || Because now, I lie down in dust, || And You have sought me—and I am not!”

Job: My suffering is without consolation

“Isn’t a man forced to labor on earth? Aren’t his days like the days of a hired hand?

As a servant who earnestly desires the shadow, as a hireling who looks for his wages,

so I am made to possess months of misery, wearisome nights are appointed to me.

When I lie down, I say, ‘When will I arise, and the night be gone?’ I toss and turn until the dawning of the day.

My flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust. My skin closes up, and breaks out afresh.

My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle, and are spent without hope.

Oh remember that my life is a breath. My eye will no more see good.

The eye of him who sees me will see me no more. Your eyes will be on me, but I will not be.

As the cloud is consumed and vanishes away, so he who goes down to Sheol

(a)

will come up no more.

He will return no more to his house, neither will his place know him any more.

“Therefore I will not keep silent. I will speak in the anguish of my spirit. I will complain in the bitterness of my soul.

Am I a sea, or a sea monster, that you put a guard over me?

When I say, ‘My bed will comfort me. My couch will ease my complaint,’

then you scare me with dreams and terrify me through visions,

so that my soul chooses strangling, death rather than my bones.

I loathe my life. I don’t want to live forever. Leave me alone, for my days are but a breath.

What is man, that you should magnify him, that you should set your mind on him,

that you should visit him every morning, and test him every moment?

How long will you not look away from me, nor leave me alone until I swallow down my spittle?

If I have sinned, what do I do to you, you watcher of men? Why have you set me as a mark for you, so that I am a burden to myself?

Why do you not pardon my disobedience, and take away my iniquity? For now will I lie down in the dust. You will seek me diligently, but I will not be.”

Footnotes

(a)7:9 Sheol is the place of the dead.