Job preserves his integrity
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And Job adds to lift up his allegory and says:
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“God lives! He turned aside my judgment, || And the Mighty—He made my soul bitter.
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For all the while my breath [is] in me, || And the wind of God in my nostrils.
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My lips do not speak perverseness, || And my tongue does not utter deceit.
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Defilement to me—if I justify you, || Until I expire I do not turn aside my integrity from me.
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On my righteousness I have laid hold, || And I do not let it go, || My heart does not reproach me while I live.
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My enemy is as the wicked, || And my withstander as the perverse.
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For what [is] the hope of the profane, || When He cuts off? When God casts off his soul?
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[Does] God hear his cry, || When distress comes on him?
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Does he delight himself on the Mighty? Call God at all times?
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I show you by the hand of God, || That which [is] with the Mighty I do not hide.
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Behold, you—all of you—have seen, || And why [is] this—you are altogether vain?
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This [is] the portion of wicked man with God, || And the inheritance of terrible ones || They receive from the Mighty.
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If his sons multiply—a sword [is] for them. And his offspring [are] not satisfied [with] bread.
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His remnant are buried in death, || And his widows do not weep.
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If he heaps up silver as dust, || And prepares clothing as clay,
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He prepares—and the righteous puts [it] on, || And the innocent apportions the silver.
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He has built his house as a moth, || And as a shelter a watchman has made.
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He lies down rich, and he is not gathered, || He has opened his eyes, and he is not.
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Terrors overtake him as waters, || By night a whirlwind has stolen him away.
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An east wind takes him up, and he goes, || And it frightens him from his place,
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And it casts at him, and does not spare, || He diligently flees from its hand.
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It claps its hands at him, || And it hisses at him from his place.”
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