Job 10

1 Yt anoieth my soule of my lijf; Y schal lete my speche ayens me, Y schal speke in the bitternesse of my soule.

My soul is weary of my life; I will leave my complaint upon myself; I will speak in the bitterness of my soul.

2 Y schal seie to God, Nyle thou condempne me; schewe thou to me, whi thou demest me so.

I will say to God, Do not condemn me; show me why thou contendest with me.

3 Whether it semeth good to thee, if thou `falsli chalengist and oppressist me, the werk of thin hondis; and if thou helpist the counsel of wickid men?

Is it good to thee that thou shouldest oppress, that thou shouldest despise the work of thy hands, and shine upon the counsel of the wicked?

4 Whethir fleischli iyen ben to thee, ethir, as a man seeth, also thou schalt se?

Hast thou eyes of flesh? or seest thou as man seeth?

5 Whether thi daies ben as the daies of man, and `thi yeeris ben as mannus tymes;

Are thy days as the days of man? are thy years as man’s days,

6 that thou enquere my wickidnesse, and enserche my synne?

That thou enquirest after my iniquity, and searchest after my sin?

7 And wite, that Y haue do no `wickid thing; sithen no man is, that may delyuere fro thin hond?

Thou knowest that I am not wicked; and there is none that can deliver out of thy hand.

8 Thin hondis han maad me, and han formed me al in cumpas; and thou castist me doun so sodeynli.

Thy hands have made me and fashioned me in all my parts; yet thou dost destroy me.

9 Y preye, haue thou mynde, that thou madist me as cley, and schalt brynge me ayen in to dust.

Remember, I beseech thee, that thou hast made me as the clay; and wilt thou bring me into dust again?

10 Whether thou hast not mylkid me as mylk, and hast cruddid me togidere as cheese?

Hast thou not poured me out as milk, and curdled me like cheese?

11 Thou clothidist me with skyn and fleisch; thou hast ioyned me togidere with boonys and senewis.

Thou hast clothed me with skin and flesh, and hast fenced me with bones and sinews.

12 Thou hast youe lijf and mercy to me, and thi visiting hath kept my spirit.

Thou hast granted me life and favour, and thy care hath preserved my spirit.

13 Thouy thou helist these thingis in thin herte, netheles Y woot, that thou hast mynde of alle thingis.

And these things hast thou hid in thy heart: I know that this is with thee.

14 If Y dide synne, and thou sparidist me at an our; whi suffrist thou not me to be cleene of my wickidnesse?

If I sin, then thou markest me, and thou wilt not acquit me from my iniquity.

15 And if Y was wickid, wo is to me; and if Y was iust, Y fillid with turment and wretchidnesse `schal not reise the heed.

If I be wicked, woe to me; and if I be righteous, yet will I not lift up my head. I am full of confusion; therefore see thou my affliction;

16 And if Y reise `the heed for pride, thou schalt take me as a lionesse; and thou turnest ayen, and turmentist me wondirli.

For it increaseth. Thou huntest me as a fierce lion: and again thou showest thyself marvellous upon me.

17 Thou gaderist in store thi witnessis ayens me, and thou multipliest thin yre, `that is, veniaunce, ayens me; and peynes holden knyythod in me.

Thou renewest thy witnesses against me, and increasest thy indignation upon me; changes and war are against me.

18 Whi hast thou led me out of the wombe? `And Y wolde, that Y were wastid, lest an iye `schulde se me.

Why then hast thou brought me forth from the womb? O that I had given up the ghost, and no eye had seen me!

19 That Y hadde be, as if Y were not, and `were translatid, ethir borun ouer, fro the wombe to the sepulcre.

I should have been as though I had not been; I should have been carried from the womb to the grave.

20 Whether the fewnesse of my daies schal not be endid in schort? Therfor suffre thou me, that Y biweile `a litil my sorewe,

Are not my days few? cease then, and let me alone, that I may take comfort a little,

21 bifor that Y go, and turne not ayen, to the derk lond, and hilid with the derknesse of deth, to the lond of wrecchidnesse and of derknessis;

Before I go to the place from which I shall not return, even to the land of darkness and the shadow of death;

22 where is schadewe of deeth, and noon ordre, but euerlastynge hidousnesse dwellith.

A land of darkness, as darkness itself; and of the shadow of death, without any order, and where the light is as darkness.