Must you pursue me as God does, never satisfied with my flesh?
I wish my words were written down, that they were inscribed in a scroll,
that, engraved with iron and filled with lead, they were cut into rock forever!
"But I know that my Redeemer lives, that in the end he will rise on the dust;
so that after my skin has been thus destroyed, then even without my flesh, I will see God.
I will see him for myself, my eyes, not someone else's, will behold him. My heart grows weak inside me!
"If you say, 'How will we persecute him?'-the root of the matter is found in me.
You had best fear the sword, for anger brings the punishment of the sword, so that you will know there is judgment!"