Then Job spoke again:
"If my sadness could be weighed and my troubles be put on the scales,
they would be heavier than all the sands of the sea. That is why I spoke so rashly.
For the Almighty has struck me down with his arrows. He has sent his poisoned arrows deep within my spirit. All God's terrors are arrayed against me.
Don't I have a right to complain? Wild donkeys bray when they find no green grass, and oxen low when they have no food.
People complain when there is no salt in their food. And how tasteless is the uncooked white of an egg!
My appetite disappears when I look at it; I gag at the thought of eating it!"
"Oh, that I might have my request, that God would grant my hope.
I wish he would crush me. I wish he would reach out his hand and kill me.
At least I can take comfort in this: Despite the pain, I have not denied the words of the Holy One.
But I do not have the strength to endure. I do not have a goal that encourages me to carry on.
Do I have strength as hard as stone? Is my body made of bronze?
No, I am utterly helpless, without any chance of success."
"One should be kind to a fainting friend, but you have accused me without the slightest fear of the Almighty.
My brother, you have proved as unreliable as a seasonal brook that overflows its banks in the spring
when it is swollen with ice and melting snow.
But when the hot weather arrives, the water disappears. The brook vanishes in the heat.
The caravans turn aside to be refreshed, but there is nothing there to drink, and so they perish in the desert.
With high hopes, the caravans from Tema and from Sheba stop for water,
but finding none, their hopes are dashed.
You, too, have proved to be of no help. You have seen my calamity, and you are afraid.
But why? Have I ever asked you for a gift? Have I begged you to use any of your wealth on my behalf?
Have I ever asked you to rescue me from my enemies? Have I asked you to save me from ruthless people?"
"All I want is a reasonable answer -- then I will keep quiet. Tell me, what have I done wrong?
Honest words are painful, but what do your criticisms amount to?
Do you think your words are convincing when you disregard my cry of desperation?
You would even send an orphan into slavery or sell a friend.
Look at me! Would I lie to your face?
Stop assuming my guilt, for I am righteous. Don't be so unjust.
Do you think I am lying? Don't I know the difference between right and wrong?"