Job 17
1 Spiritus meus attenuabitur, dies mei breviabuntur, et solum mihi superest sepulchrum.
My breath is exhausted; My days are at an end; The grave is ready for me.
2 Non peccavi, et in amaritudinibus moratur oculus meus.
Are not revilers before me? And doth not my eye dwell upon their provocations?
3 Libera me Dominue, et pone me iuxta te, et cuiusvis manus pugnet contra me.
Give a pledge, I pray thee; be thou a surety for me with thee; Who is he that will strike hands with me?
4 Cor eorum longe fecisti a disciplina, propterea non exaltabuntur.
Behold, thou hast blinded their understanding; Therefore thou wilt not suffer them to prevail.
5 Prædam pollicetur sociis, et oculi filiorum eius deficient.
He who delivereth up his friends as a prey, —The eyes of his children shall fail.
6 Posuit me quasi in proverbium vulgi, et exemplum sum coram eis.
He made me the by-word of the people; Yea, I have become their abhorrence.
7 Caligavit ab indignatione oculus meus, et membra mea quasi in nihilum redacta sunt.
My eye therefore is dim with sorrow, And all my limbs are as a shadow.
8 Stupebunt iusti super hoc, et innocens contra hypocritam suscitabitur.
Upright men will be astonished at this, And the innocent will rouse themselves against the wicked.
9 Et tenebit iustus viam suam, et mundis manibus addet fortitudinem.
The righteous will also hold on his way, And he that hath clean hands will gather strength.
10 Igitur omnes vos convertimini, et venite, et non inveniam in vobis ullum sapientem.
But as for you all, return, I pray! I find not yet among you one wise man.
11 Dies mei transierunt, cogitationes meæ dissipatæ sunt, torquentes cor meum:
My days are at an end; My plans are broken off; Even the treasures of my heart.
12 Noctem verterunt in diem, et rursum post tenebras spero lucem.
Night hath become day to me; The light bordereth on darkness.
Yea, I look to the grave as my home; I have made my bed in darkness. (Sheol h7585)
14 Putredini dixi: Pater meus es, mater mea, et soror mea, vermibus.
I say to the pit, Thou art my father! And to the worm, My mother! and, My sister!
15 Ubi est ergo nunc præstolatio mea, et patientiam meam quis considerat?
Where then is my hope? Yea, my hope, who shall see it?
