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1 And Job answereth and saith: -- 2 O that my provocation were thoroughly weighed, And my calamity in balances They would lift up together! 3 For now, than the sands of the sea it is heavier, Therefore my words have been rash. 4 For arrows of the Mighty are with me, Whose poison is drinking up my spirit. Terrors of God array themselves for me! 5 Brayeth a wild ass over tender grass? Loweth an ox over his provender? 6 Eaten is an insipid thing without salt? Is there sense in the drivel of dreams? 7 My soul is refusing to touch! They are as my sickening food. 8 O that my request may come, That God may grant my hope! 9 That God would please -- and bruise me, Loose His hand and cut me off! Job 6:1-9, Young's Literal Translation. Public domain.
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