I become afraid of all my suffering, for I know you will not hold me innocent.
I shall be condemned; why then do I labor in vain?
If I wash myself with soap and cleanse my hands with lye,
yet you will plunge me into filth, and my own clothes will abhor me.
For he is not a mortal, as I am, that I might answer him, that we should come to trial together.
There is no umpire between us, who might lay his hand on us both.
If he would take his rod away from me, and not let dread of him terrify me,
then I would speak without fear of him, for I know I am not what I am thought to be.