Job 27

¹ And Job addeth to lift up his simile, and saith: —

² God liveth! He turned aside my judgment, And the Mighty — He made my soul bitter.

³ For all the while my breath [is] in me, And the spirit of God in my nostrils.

⁴ My lips do not speak perverseness, And my tongue doth not utter deceit.

⁵ Pollution to me — if I justify you, Till I expire I turn not aside mine integrity from me.

⁶ On my righteousness I have laid hold, And I do not let it go, My heart doth not reproach me while I live.

⁷ As the wicked is my enemy, And my withstander as the perverse.

⁸ For what [is] the hope of the profane, When He doth cut off? When God doth cast off his soul?

⁹ His cry doth God hear, When distress cometh on him?

¹⁰ On the Mighty doth he delight himself? Call God at all times?

¹¹ I shew you by the hand of God, That which [is] with the Mighty I hide not.

¹² Lo, ye — all of you — have seen, And why [is] this — ye are altogether vain?

¹³ This [is] the portion of wicked man with God, And the inheritance of terrible ones From the Mighty they receive.

¹⁴ If his sons multiply — for them [is] a sword. And his offspring [are] not satisfied [with] bread.

¹⁵ His remnant in death are buried, And his widows do not weep.

¹⁶ If he heap up as dust silver, And as clay prepare clothing,

¹⁷ He prepareth — and the righteous putteth [it] on, And the silver the innocent doth apportion.

¹⁸ He hath built as a moth his house, And as a booth a watchman hath made.

¹⁹ Rich he lieth down, and he is not gathered, His eyes he hath opened, and he is not.

²⁰ Overtake him as waters do terrors, By night stolen him away hath a whirlwind.

²¹ Take him up doth an east wind, and he goeth, And it frighteneth him from his place,

²² And it casteth at him, and doth not spare, From its hand he diligently fleeth.

²³ It clappeth at him its hands, And it hisseth at him from his place.